#i wake up every day and wish u were still fucking around on this stupid server Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[oatm1lkcowboy]

like why am i ill over the thought of a pixelated egg not being able to see his pixelated father get married. who did this to me

[titaswrld]

I have a request for a deadpool fic, if you could make a very angsty story where deadpool thinks he is undeserving of love and never thinks someone in this world would fall for him 😭 he is self-conscious about his looks and never in his right mind it crossed him that he has a chance with the reader, but he would do anything just to feel loved. he's just a constantly depressed ball of sadness, and the only way he copes with his thoughts is his dark humor. while the reader is head over heels for that man, and she's showering him in love, but he only thinks it's because they're friends 😭🫶🏼

monster

description: wade wilson being insecure about his looks, not knowing if the girl he loves would ever love him back.

paring: wade wilson x reader!

contains: angst! with happy ending (i didn’t know how to end it😭)

w.c: 1.2k

|an: finally writing forreals again! i needed to get back into it. thank u for ur request, i hope u like it😇 reader is a baker bc i couldn’t think of a more wholesome career path😭

you’ve known your best friend, wade wilson, for almost a year now. starting off as just occasional friends, hanging out at each other's apartments, watching chick flicks, and eating your weight in junk food until your friendship grew into something deeper, feeling nothing but love and admiration for another and the desire to be something more.

he’s so in love with you; he knows that now. he tried to deny it; he tried telling himself there’s no way, there’s absolutely no way a woman as intelligent, as confident, and as kind as you could ever love a monster like him. He knew you deserved better—a handsome, young, intelligent accountant or something.

his field of work is dangerous; he knows that. killing random people he doesn’t even know for cash. large sums of cash, sure. but, nonetheless, killing. he honestly always found it humorous, a trained marksman, mercenary, and vigilante , with his super cool awesome, still in school to become a pâtissière best friend!

he knew you’d leave; he knew no human being on planet earth could bear even looking at his rough, bumpy skin. that’s why he’s yet to show you his face, never failing to wear his mask around you, even though you’ve known each other for so long now. he didn’t know why you were still around after all this time even with the mask on, he knew most people found him to be annoying, aggravating, and just an all around piece of shit person, but for some reason, you liked him, and you enjoyed being around him.

he’s never had someone so close to him, as you are with him. you’re so kind, so affectionate, and so touchy. he thinks it’s just pity, you’d never think of him as anything more than a friend.

he dreamt of being the man who loved you the rest of your life; he wished that he could fall asleep and wake up to your face every day, make you laugh every day, eat every meal with you, watch every movie and every show, spend every holiday together, fuck, even start a family. he craved you. he craved your love, your care, and your kindness; he wanted to be normal with you, but he’s not normal, far from it. he knew better than that. he knew he didn’t deserve that. he would never be the man that you love.

he’s not ready to let you go, but he can’t keep his feelings for you inside any longer. he honestly dug himself into an even deeper hole, choosing to come over almost every free night he had. he couldn’t stay away from you; he hated being away from you. during every mission and every fight, all he thought about was coming home to you. you’re the only person who truly understood him for the man that he is, and he loves you for that. he’s never opened up to anybody the way that he’d opened up to you. you were special, so special to him. he was terrified.

you felt hopeless, stupid, and desperate. every advance you made, you’d failed. from baking him his favorite treats, to holding his hand while you watched a movie on the couch, to giving him hugs that lasted a little longer than necessary after a long mission, you couldn’t get your best friend out of your mind, not if you tried. hou crave him, his love, his care, his stupid fucking jokes that never end, his sarcastic nature, his sass—you don’t think you have ever loved a man the way that you love wade.

sometimes, he made you think that he might like you back, that he might have some sort of romantic interest in you, but it was quickly shut down after he made a joke, basically telling you that it would never happen.

you and wade were sitting on the couch, just talking, telling stories, and catching up after a particularly long time apart. until you had thought of a statement, that could’ve told you whether or not wade may or may not feel the same way.

your best friend, mia, had mistaken you and wade for a couple while on the phone. when you denied her statement, she apologized, saying she’s sorry for assuming, but you did spend all your time together..

when you told wade what she said, he doubled down in laughter before spitting out, “you? me? never. who is this friend? have i met her? has she seen me before? you might need to get her 5150’d.”

which did shatter your heart into a million pieces, but nonetheless, it wouldn’t stop you from trying to show him how much you care, how much you want to be with him, and how much you want to love him. he deserved love, and you wanted to give it to him.

each time he made a self-deprecating joke, it broke your heart. it was torture for you. the most he would ever do is lift his mask slightly when he ate with you, only to pop a piece of food in his mouth, then sheathe his face with his mask once again to chew, repeating the process until he’d finished. but even then, you never looked out of respect.

there were multiple occasions where you could’ve snuck a peek, where you could’ve turned around and saw his full face, but you knew how genuinely insecure he felt and how scared he was for you to see his face, so you never looked, not wanting to betray his trust or make him uncomfortable. you loved him, and you wish he understood that absolutely nothing could change that. especially not the way he looks.

today, you were sat on your couch, waiting for him to arrive. He said he’d be over tonight for the usual—rom-coms and junk food. but today, you felt different, your balls finally dropped, and you were ready to admit how you felt, whether it was a good or bad outcome, you were ready.

every single worst-case scenario clouded your thoughts, making your palms sweaty and causing a deep ache in your chest until you heard a knock at your door, saving you from plummeting even farther into your head.

you open the door, and time feels slow motion. you didn’t see deadpool; you saw wade for the first time- the real wade. standing there with an anxious expression plastered across his mottled face, snacks in one hand and flowers ripped from the dirt outside of your apartment complex in the other.

your stomach dropped along with your expression, the shock stunning you into place as you began to gather your thoughts. this is what he was hiding, you thought. jesus christ, all of that trouble for this? you could almost hit him.

wade, on the other hand, paced in your hallway, back and forth for 15 minutes before this, trying to decide whether he should just bail and leave the fucking country or finally stop being pussy and just show you his goddamn face.

after seeing your initial reaction, his head dropped, his gaze on the floor, as he muttered, “i know. total freak show, right? freddy kruger? craterface? cmon, lay it on me.”

now was your chance, as you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your soft lips against his dry, cracked ones. you felt his tense muscles drop and relax as he melted into the kiss, relishing in the feeling and making sure it was real, too.

you’d pulled away, looking him in the eyes and flashing a smile his way before placing kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

your gaze fell across his face once again, this time meeting you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“so— ten things i hate about you, or steel magnolias?”

[ellieluvr420]

Eye for an Eye Pt.1

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

Okay i know the vote isn’t over yet but there is a pretty overwhelming majority so here it is! i’m sorry if this is not what u wanted but i promise friends?never is gonna still be getting regular updates, that will be prioritised until it is complete i was just too excited to not put a little something out. love u all as always xxxxxxxx

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In and out. In and out. Focus on your breathing, focus on it to quell the pit of rage burning deep inside you. That was all you had done for weeks and even at the resolution, when everything was as it should be, still the fire burned on. In and fucking out. Your breaths got deeper, shakier, more frequent again as the weight of her sleeping peacefully by your side consumed you, it had once consumed you with love and it still did, quietly in the background, but it was now overshadowed by the screaming torment of the rage you felt when you looked at her or even felt her presence. It had been like this ever since she got back. Weeks and weeks of refused touches, unanswered questions, shameful glances, you were stuck in this loop because she kept you in the dark. But humans adapt, better than most, so you adapted to the dark, learned to sneak around in it, hunt in it, live in it. You could never leave, neither could she, you were bound cosmically, and you cursed it every day. It was a paradox; how could you love someone so much you felt like your world would burn if they weren’t in it but hate them so much you never wanted to see them again? You couldn’t make sense of it, she’d come to understand your feelings but she was blissfully ignorant to how the swarm of indifference surged through your mind and clamped down on your heart.

You sighed and spared a glance at her sleeping form, the peaceful expression of her face only screaming at you to smother it with the pillow you had laid restlessly on. Weeks and weeks, every morning, you wake up, you stare at her sleeping face and you wish you could just make her sleep forever, it made you want to join her, to sleep and never wake. The anger had become so palpable you actually dreamed of killing her and then yourself just to break free from this never-ending cycle. You tip-toed around each other, you avoiding her like she was the plague because in your mind she was, and her treating you like an unexploded bomb that could go off at the slightest wrong movement. She knew it was her fault, she had made you this way but she had to believe you could both move past it without her shedding light on where she had disappeared off to those months ago. She knew what it would do to you both, leaving for three months without a word, just a quickly written note, no warning, no reassurance, just vanishing. She knew it was stupid to think she could come back without a word as to where she had went and everything would be the same but there was a tiny sliver of hope in her that it could happen. That hope was dashed away when a door was slammed in her face and not opened for her again for two weeks but when it did eventually open, that tiny sliver of hope came flooding back, a flame had ignited in her at the thought that everything would be okay but the flame was slowly dying the more weeks went by without a change in your demeanour. She could feel the hatred, the resentment, the hurt radiating off of you whenever you were near and there was nothing she could do to stop it anymore, you were stubborn, that she knew, but this, this was torture, karma getting its own back at her.

You couldn’t contain it anymore, the energy within you, staring at the wall and focusing on your breathing couldn’t help you now so you threw the covers off of you, rushing out of bed to storm out of the bedroom.

“Babe?” Her quiet, groggy voice sounded out from behind you and your body burned.

“What Abby?”

“Where are you going?”

“I dunno, be back soon.” You echoed the words in her letter and it stung, a physical pain ricocheting through her chest making it hard for her to breathe as she jumped out of bed to follow you.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You paused and spun to face her, your dark circles were craters under your eyes, your face gaunt and paler than it typically was, your eyes completely vacant, devoid of any emotion.

“I mean I don’t know. Don’t try to find me.” She wasn’t sure if you were doing it on purpose but once again you echoed the contents of her letter as you yanked your boots from the ground, opening the door and slamming it behind you without even a glimpse over your shoulder at her defeated expression. She huffed and dragged her hands down her face as she reluctantly went back to her room, collapsing on the bed. It was times like these she was glad Isaac had moved her to a suite of her own, the thought of Manny witnessing this sending a shiver through her. She knew you could both get through this, she knew, so why was doubt invading her every cell?

You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t know where you were going, you couldn’t go back to your room, it only reminded you of the memories of those three months when she had disappeared and you had locked yourself away, refusing assignments, refusing most food, refusing contact with anyone that wasn’t her. It was too painful to be there, it made being in Abby’s room calming despite her looming presence but this morning it had overwhelmed you, so you kept walking and walking until you ended up at the mess hall. You didn’t remember taking the route there but you had and it was too late to turn back because eyes were on you, familiar eyes, beckoning you over to them.

“Hey stranger! Where you been hiding?” Manny, he had once been a positive presence in your life but he was the antithesis of that now, he had left with her, they had all left with her, leaving you here in the dark and they wanted to play nice now they’re back, you couldn’t. His smile juxtaposed your death glare as you scoffed and looked past him like he wasn’t even there. He could see the anguish in your face, evident in all your features that were nowhere near the radiance you typically emitted, he knew what had happened to you, who had happened to you, his part in it weighing on him heavily. You don’t acknowledge him, you walk straight past him like he’s a ghost, straight past him and all the others waiting expectantly for any sign of forgiveness, straight to the double doors at the other end of the hall, ramming through them like you’re made of steel. “Well fuck.” He mutters as they all watch you storm away out of their sight.

“Are you surprised?” Nora remarks.

“Well no but it’s been almost two months now. She hasn’t cracked one bit.” His eyes never leaving the doors you had exited through.

“She’s seeing Abby, has she said anything about how she’s been?” Mel chimed in with a concerned tone.

“Nada. Fucking nada. It’s radio silence from both of ‘em. I barely even see Abby unless we’re on assignments together because she’s always locked up in her room. I’m worried about ‘em both.” His voice was laced with sadness and there was a tense atmosphere clouding over them as there always was when what they had done was brought up, it was never directly spoken about, it felt like poison to speak it aloud but even a hint of it was enough to make them all shrink into themselves, becoming wrapped in their thoughts.

You trailed the halls of the stadium, circling round and round until your legs ached and your mouth was dry, you had seen people dotted here and there as you walked, smiling politely at any that you mistakenly made eye contact with. You walked past another faceless body as the deafening thoughts drummed around your mind. There was a muffled echo, distant but growing closer until you’re interrupted by a hand enclosing around your wrist, you knew who it belonged to without even having to look causing you to snatch your wrist free from their grasp as you jumped back with a scowl.

“What are you doing? I was worried.” You scoffed at her concerned expression as her eyebrows scrunched. You went to walk away but she was too quick, hands squeezing your hips and pushing you back against the wall you had jumped toward in a bid to escape her first grasp. “Stop fucking walking away from me. When is it gonna end?” You just stared back in disbelief, unmoving in her strong grip, her glassy eyes mocking you, she doesn’t care, her actions had been the opposite of someone who had cared.

“You’re so fucking full of it Abby. You’re worried? Bite me, you don’t worry about anyone other than you.” You spat at her, the shock of your words causing her to loosen her grip around you enough for you to break free and begin storming away from her again.

“I- I just wanna talk. Please.”

“You had your chance to talk. You had so many fucking chances and you wasted them so don’t give me that shit. You wanna feel better about what you did and my forgiveness is the only thing that will do that. Too fucking bad Abby.” You don’t slow as you grit over your shoulder to her but neither does she, following your every movement only a step behind.

“Well if you can’t forgive me why are you still with me? Why do you sleep at mine every night? Why do you still say you love me back when I tell you I love you? What’s the fucking point of it?” You freeze, a choked sob catching in your throat as you look up to the ceiling to beg the tears to just stay in your eyes.

“Because I do love you Abby.” You mutter barely loud enough for her to hear. “How don’t you understand that?” You sound broken, like a shell of yourself.

“Make me understand.” You scoff and chuckle dryly at her as you shake your head.

“I don’t owe you that.” You continue walking again but this time she doesn’t follow, stuck in her place.

“I have patrol! I won’t be back until later.” She calls out to you.

“Thanks for the heads up!” You call back sarcastically. “This time.” You mutter under your breath as you storm further and further from Abby.

You don’t know why you ended up back at Abby’s room, it was so stupid, you couldn’t stand seeing her but her room was the only place that felt safe, you stared at the key that she had once slammed down in front of you as you refused to acknowledge her pleads to just talk, the memory making your blood run cold. It was the first time you had even answered her repeated pounds against your door, two weeks after she had returned, though you opening the door made absolutely no difference because it was like she wasn’t there at all. You had unlatched the door, so it opened a sliver before immediately walking away from it leaving her to hesitantly follow you inside. She watched as you sunk down onto your bed, staring at the wall opposite instead of sparing a glance towards her as she stood over you. She had just stared down at you, pleading with you silently to just look at her but you never did. She slammed the spare key to her room down on your bedside table before sighing and leaving disappointed for what was only the first time to come over the next two weeks. It became a routine, she’d knock, you’d unlock the door and walk away, she’d come in to desperately get you to reason with her but when you showed no signs of a change in your demeanour, she’d give up and leave you alone, letting herself out shamefully. She was just too good at leaving you.

When you had turned up at her door, using the key she had given you, she was stunned, almost so stunned she didn’t see your tear-streaked cheeks and red, glassy eyes but she did notice, she noticed and a lump formed in her throat that she desperately tried to swallow down as she just watched you. Even in her own room you barely acknowledged her only choosing to mutter a small ‘can I stay here tonight?’, the second she vigorously nodded her head you drifted towards her bed, collapsing onto it and immediately burying your face into the pillow to muffle your sobs. She had rubbed your back but when she tried to cuddle into you and wrap you in her embrace you pushed her away hard enough that she didn’t try again. You had gone back to hers everyday since then and the routine hadn’t changed from that point on though you had grown from hurt and beaten down to hostile and the tense atmosphere was painfully tangible. It remained the same as you let yourself into her room, knowing she would eventually come back from patrol later that day and you’d have to face her once again

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Abby felt completely dejected, she was tired and her adrenaline that had powered her through today was fleeting, she was panicking about Owen after seeing Danny’s body and hearing what Nora had told her, everything was backwards and knowing you wouldn’t be there as a comfort to her only made her feel worse as she turned the key to unlock her room. She knew you were here but that made no difference these days, even when you were here you weren’t here and that broke her. 

“Hey.” Her voice was meek and cracked as she looked at you, standing in front of her with the same vacant expression you had worn for months, she couldn’t hold it in anymore, the dam broke and hot, salty tears began flowing down her cheeks as her choked sobs filled the quiet of the room. 

“What’s wrong?” You had moved closer, your eyebrows knitted together in concern as you spoke softly, juxtaposing your harsh tone she had gotten used to, it only made her cry more which drew you in closer until your hand was on her shoulder and squeezing. “Abby what happened?” 

“I- nothing, nothing. We just got ambushed on patrol, I think I’m just tired I don’t know.” You nodded but you were looking at her like you were expecting her to continue, you were coaxing the words out of her and she had no control. “Owen shot Danny and now he’s missing and I just don’t know what to do. Nothing’s the same anymore.” 

“No it isn’t.” Your voice wasn’t as soft as it had been, it wasn’t mean but it wasn’t soft, she warily peeked at your face and the sight of it hardened once again caused another choked sob to rack through her body. She stepped towards you and dropped down to her knees as she wrapped her large arms around your waist and squeezed as she pressed her cheek into your stomach. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left the way I did and if I could take it back I would but I can’t keep doing this, I miss you and I miss us, I need you, everything’s different I need us to be the same. I’m sorry.” Your hand came to her hair, stroking gently. 

“Tell me where you went.” 

“I- I can’t.” She sobbed more as your hand snatched itself away from her hair before you reached behind you and desperately tried to unclasp her from your waist. “No please, please don’t go. Please I can’t do this without you.” 

“I don’t fucking understand Abby, why won’t you just tell me?” 

“You won’t be able to look at me the same.” 

“I can’t look at you the same now so what difference does it make?” Her eyes meet yours as she looks up at you from her place on the floor and the sight of her lip wobbling as her cheeks were red and tear-streaked almost made your resolve waiver but you couldn’t. You wished you could forget but you couldn’t. 

“Please.” She begged but it fell on deaf ears. 

“Let me go Abby.” She blew out a breath as her eyes clamped shut and she swallowed a sob, her arms loosened around you letting you break free from her grasp to practically run to the front door and leave. She didn’t watch you go from her position on the floor, she just sat and collapsed into a fit of sobs as her door slammed signalling your departure. You couldn’t keep it together once you had walked out of her room, everything felt like it was coming crashing down as you paced the halls. It wasn’t enough to leave Abby’s room, you still felt suffocated, you needed to get out of the stadium. You headed straight for the secret hole in the fence that only you and Abby knew about to make your escape and the second you emerged into the drizzly outside of Seattle you could feel your lungs filling with air that you desperately needed. You considered going back in but when you turned back, your lungs felt like they were constricting again and you ran in the complete opposite direction until your legs were tired and your lungs burned. You didn’t have a gun, or a knife, you were completely defenceless so when you heard the shrill cries of infected, you immediately looked for an entrance into any one of the buildings that surrounded you. 

You spotted a window open just one story up at an old theatre and you sprinted towards it and up the stairs of the fire escape to climb through. Once you were inside, you shut the window softly and began making your way through what you assumed was the backstage area of the theatre, the red, velvet curtains called you towards them and as you stepped through you gasped at the sight of an auburn-haired girl sleeping on one of the chairs. She looked a couple years younger than you, nineteen or twenty you assumed, and despite the sleep her face still looked screwed up and tense. You edged closer to her, careful not to make any noise and when you saw her gun on the seat next to her you grabbed it, pointing it at her while kicking at her shoe. She stirred slightly and then her eyes flashed open revealing bright green eyes staring back at you in disbelief.  

“Don’t scream. Who are you?”  

tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 7)

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader, satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: time to face the music, even if you're hungover. and by music...it's the missed calls and texts and from toji. what could he possibly want? ☆ tags: modern au, academia au, babysitting au ☆ warnings: mentions of alcohol, food poisoning, sexting, slight dubcon, dirty talking ☆ a/n: another longie (7.8k+ words SORRY) but i hope you guys enjoy the foreplay. y/n is about to be dicked down every day like good for her!! but also!! wish that were me! 🤭 next one will be filled with smut so dw u horndogs!! also i'm unsure when then 3sum will come but i'm thinking in like SOON in like...10ish parts (i hope not more). i want to slow burn lead up to it and hint it more before actually writing about it LOL (also ik it sounds like a taco bell commercial in the end its not ok i just love taco bell!!!) 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

the soft morning light shines through curtains you forgot to close last night, and the harshness of the sun causes you to stir in your sleep, waking you harshly.

your heart beats fast and you open your eyes and are unable to move a single limb on your body. panic sets in, only to dissipate seconds later as you find a rather tall lump of a man’s leg trapping you in the corner of your sofa.

ugh, how did i get here? why is it so bright? why does every inch of my body hurt? oh god, i’m about hurl.

you barely hold back dry heaving in your laid down position. your head is pounding and you don’t like how empty your stomach is right now. why do my legs hurt? i feel like i can’t feel them anymore. oh, right.

the large shape of a man who’s body is halfway strewn across yours, satoru, is now constricting the blood flow to your legs, and you know you have to do the daunting task of waking him up.

“psst, satoru. wake up.” you lightly pat his unruly head of white hair, but with no success. you start hitting his head harder, as you quickly start to lose more feeling in your legs, until you practically are shouting his name, swatting his head and kicking his torso. satoru abruptly wakes and turns around the small sofa, which actually has no room for turning, so he actually ends up taking a small dive into the hardwood floors of your living room.

satoru lets a groggy yet painful groan. “what the literal fuck, y/n?!” his words are almost incoherent with sleep laced between them as he rubs his arms that took the brunt of the fall. “as if my head isn’t aleady fuckin’ killin’ me.”

you groan out in pain. “my legs were being suffocated by your large body!”

none of you answer, and continue to lay still in your respective positions for what feels like hours, until your headache becomes almost too unbearable to withstand.

“satoru~” you whine out. “m’head…it hurts so much, i feel like i’m gonna die…” you turn your body as slow as you can to the edge of the couch to see satoru’s face. his eyes are still closed, but scrunched, and his hand is resting on his forehead.

“it’s called a hangover. get in line, stupid.”

“don’t call me stupid right now, satoru. i’m in pain!” you cry out, your fingers doing their best to sooth your pain by rubbing harsh circles on your temples.

satoru slowly sits up without looking at you, grabs a decorative pillow from the chaise of your couch, and immediately face plants on to it on the floor, effectively falling asleep once more. you think that’s not a bad idea, now that you have more space, and close your eyes and force your mind to concentrate on anything but your throbbing head.

okay, so we got back from the barcade. me and satoru…we…kissed. we definitely kissed. i remember that. and then? did we have sex? no, that doesn’t like us - neither of us are keen on having sex drunk for a variety of reasons besides the obvious ones.

your thoughts slowly drown out as you find yourself falling into a second deep slumber.

the second time you and satoru wake for the day is the most disconcerting: a loud, high pitched scream.

you wake up with your heart pounding so hard, you think you’re dying from cardiac arrest. satoru thinks he threw up in his mouth from how fast he stood up with a headache. both of your eyes look at the direction of the scream and see a horrified and bewildered shoko staring wide eyes and slack jawed at you. wait, why isn’t she looking at my eyes? she’s looking at my…oh my god!

you look down and see your bralette lightly torn up and your titties completely exposed and you immediately turn to look at satoru (who’s alternating between staring at your eyes and your tits). and then back at shoko.

oh? oh. OH. OH! it fucking hits you like a ton of bricks and your hungover brain immediately goes into panic mode, shoving all signals of hunger, pain, and soreness aside.

“sh-shoko, it’s obviously not like that. this is actually so funny, you know…” you do a failed attempt at a lighthearted chuckle and fumble around for a decorative pillow until satoru hands you the one he was sleeping on.

“yeah, it’s not at all what you think it is. i didn’t…i didn’t even know she had boobs until like…right now. i swear, it’s not-” satoru bumbles, also going into damage control.

“save it. i don’t care. not right now, when i’m too hungover,” shoko says, closing her eyes and raising a hand up as she bolts to her room and closes the door.

you figure you do the same and hastily get up and grab satoru’s hands. the two of you stumble your way into your bedroom and lock the door and catch your breaths.

“ohmygod this is so embarrassing,” you say whisper, not wanting shoko to overhear your conversation. you start rubbing your temples again as satoru face plants, again, on to your bed. he doesn’t respond to you so you join him and push him to his back and try to get his attention. his eyes are still scrunched closed and he lets out a groan.

“satoru, do you even know what happened? shoko probably thinks we had…ugh i can’t even say it!”

this makes him open one eye to look at you and cock an eyebrow. he lets out a laugh, which makes you let out laugh (against your will). you playfully hit his chest but he intercepts your wrists with ease and pulls you on top of him so that your sitting up on his torso while he’s laying down.

this feels nice but…you know deep down you two should probably address the elephant in the room. you uncomfortably clear your throat and he opens his eyes. “maybe we should talk about last night…” you say with a sigh.

“what’s there to say? there’s nothing wrong with two friends kissing,” satoru says cheekily, his voice still slightly deep and groggy. kinda hot.

his response puts you at ease, and your fingers start toying with the buttons on his shirt (not in a sexual way, but in a ‘this feels nice to fidget with so i don’t have anxiety’ kinda way).

“yeah, but maybe we should…i dunno…talk about it?” you question, avoiding eye contact with him.

“like?”

“like, i dunno…” you start to chicken out before forcing yourself to say what you really want to say. “i dunno…are we only gonna kiss each other from now on? because i kinda still…wanna kiss toji…” your voice becomes barely audible near the end.

satoru stays quiet for longer than you anticipated, and you’re about to step off him to throw up in the bathroom before he finally responds with a resounding hum.

“yeah, i don’t mind. if i’m being honest…with us having school and work and all…it might be hard to make this an exclusive thing. and also…i know mia was a bitch to literally everyone but…god…” satoru sighs deeply. “her ass was insane, i’m sorry!”

you laugh wholeheartedly and grab a nearby pillow and hit his head softly in jest. you should’ve known someone like satoru, someone as horny as satoru, would not want to be tied down during grad school just yet. a sense of relief washes over you as you feel grateful that satoru has always matched your wavelength since high school. you start to think of the second elephant in the room. what will we tell shoko? and suguru? and utahime and literally all of our friends? there’s no telling shoko hasn’t already told utahime…

“also…maybe we should keep this between us…for now. especially after…” you trail off, deep in thought about the prospect of your friends finding out. 

“yeah, that sounds like a good idea…” satoru says, smirking slowly. “definitely because of our friends but also…it’s always fun to have a sexy secret with someone.”

“shut up!” you give him a smack across the chest, before thinking. i mean, it’s not like you hated kissing him. and you didn’t hate it when he played with your titties. “maybe…i mean…maybe we can still, you know, fool around still?” you say shyly.

“maybe we can fuck too if that’s something you’re down for?” satoru says unabashedly.

you lean your body down, pressing against him, and bring your lips inches from his lips, before saying you’d like that a lot. he closes the gap and starts kissing you deeply, just like the night before. satoru’s hands move up and down your hips, leaving no part of your torso untouched. your hips buckle into his and starts grinding against his already hard member. your skirt from last night has already risen up, so the cool metals of his belt are grinding up and down your clothed core, making you squirm and moan into his mouth.

satoru breaks the kiss and you whine at the loss of contact. your lips immediately latch on to his neck, leaving small wet spots all over.

satoru groans. “fuck, need this off.” he puts his fingers around the waistband of your skirt and shimmies it off of you, leaving you exposed in your thong and have ripped bralette.

your hands immediately get to work and unbuckles his belt. your hands fumble as you unzip his pants and slide them halfway down, his erect clothed member coming into view. satoru lets out a throaty breath as you start palming his hard member and leaving kisses from his neck down to his happy trail. before you’re able to start kissing below the belt, satoru pulls your head up via bunching up your hair into a makeshift ponytail and starts to kiss you as he sits up. 

“maybe we should take this into the shower…” he mumbles in between kisses. you nod and break off the kiss. 

“what time is it?” you say, as you look around for your phone. you find it only to see that the battery is completely dead. frowning, you get up to charge it before continuing your activities with satoru. 

“jesus, it’s 11 in the mornin’” satoru says, sounding slightly flustered. “fuck! i’m gonna be late for a lab meeting!” he says, as he starts to put his belt back on.

you frown. “so no shower sex?”

“i promise you, i want nothing more than to fuck your brains out in that shower.” satoru scrunches his eyes, and you wonder if he’s in genuine pain over the fact that he can’t. “but i unfortunately told nanami i’d personally talk to professor masamichi about his referral.”

“since when do you care about holding up your end of the bargain like that?” you say, cocking an eyebrow. you’ve known satoru for years, and you don’t think he’s ever showed up to a professional meeting on time, nor did he ever care to follow through with requests given to him by his peers.

“yeahhh, i know but nanami said he’s gonna send a deep web hitman for me after tricking him into my party and forcing him to be on my pool team…soo…”

“you’re so insane.”

“i think i’m going insane forfeiting pussy to go to a lab meeting, alright?”

you laugh softly. perhaps it’s probably a good time to let satoru go so you can begin your day. you have a laundry list of things to get done that thinking about it is enough for you to feel sick (showering, studying, talking to shoko without satoru there, and more things you know you’re forgetting). “well, thanks for offering anyway,” you say. 

“c’mere,” satoru says, holding out his arms to you. you melt into the hug he gives you and look up. 

“still seein’ you for study group later?” you ask him, recalling you, nanami, and haibara were planning to do some studying for your final at the university library later this evening. 

“oh shit, yeah. gotta clean up the aftermath of last night at my place and then i’ll be there,” he assures you, before grabbing his phone. you quickly put on a pair of pajama shorts and replace your torn up bralette with an old sleeping oversized tee and lead satoru to the doorway of your apartment. you wave goodbye to him, and prepare yourself to have a potentially awkward conversation with shoko after what she saw this morning. 

you scurry to shoko’s bedroom and knock twice on the door, and shoko immediately opens it and lets you in. you give her a pouty look, internally apologizing for the sight in the morning. it’s not necessarily that she saw you topless (you guys are roommates and nip slips happen), it’s more so that you were topless with satoru. 

“glad to see you finally wearing clothes, you slut,” shoko says tiredly. you can detect a slight joking tone in her voice and it relaxes you immediately. you sigh softly. 

“listen, shoko.” you start but hesitate. you want to tell shoko what really happened last night, but you remember you’re the one who didn’t want to tell your mutual friends about you and satoru. shoko and you have been best friends for so long and you can’t bear to lie to her or keep something from her. no literally, you tried to in the past but she saw through you within minutes and you ended up divulging everything to her. you figure now is no different, and you also trust her not to tell suguru or anyone else. 

shoko snaps her fingers at you. “hello, y/n? where’d ya go?”

“i hooked up with satoru last night.” you say quickly, praying she doesn’t ask you to say it again. 

shoko is silent and you cannot read her face for the life of you. “okay, it wasn’t even a hook up, i dunno why i said that. we just made out and like sortofmadeittosecondbasebutit’snotthatserious-”

your rambling is interrupted by shoko’s laughter howling across the room. shoko tries to calm down and collect herself. “wow, i mean, i sort of clocked it because of how you were this morning but oh my god? like it finally happened?”

you plop down on her bed next to her and shake her to make her stop laughing. “shokoo~ stop it! i was really horny last night, okay!” you’re scrambling to defend yourself from this blunder. 

“yeah, but him? kinda…embarrassing, no? i mean i know he’s hot, like even i can attest to that but gojo is like…hot and insufferable…like i’m happy for you but at what cost to you?” shoko explains as she wipes away tears from her eyes from laughing too hard. 

“i know, it is embarrassing and i dunno what i see in him but…when i see him…shoko,” you start rubbing your temples as you feel your headache coming on again. “i just wanna fuckin’ jump his bones, dude.” you think you hear shoko mumble something about how she cannot stand straight people. she has a point. 

“so what now?” shoko asks, getting up from her bed and grabbing her scrubs from her closet, slowly getting ready for her shift at the hospital. 

“well, for starters, you cannot tell anyone because we said we would keep it secret so you gotta pretend you dunno about this.” you go on to tell shoko about how you guys would continue to fool around casually. “it’s because we have so much going on and you know…i still wanna kiss toji.” wait, toji. toji’s text? did he respond. how could you have forgotten something you were obsessing over the whole night yesterday?! it finally hits you that satoru finally took your mind off of toji for a while, and that he could’ve finally messaged you back this morning. 

shoko mulls this information over for a bit, and you already know what her next question is. “can i tell utahime? pleeeaaassseeee!” she whines. 

“if you tell utahime she might actually kill me in my sleep.” you say exhasperatedly. 

“no, no she won’t. she might want to take you for a psych eval or something but that’s it. she might throw up too, i guess. and she might cry for you. and she-”

“okay, i’ve heard enough.” you stop shoko, getting up from her bed and heading back to your room. before exiting shoko’s bedroom, you quickly give her permission to tell utahime but no one else. it’s quite pathetic how fast you run to your desk where your phone lay charging. your practically jumps out of your chest as you see 5 missed text messages from toji: 

toji: Holy fuck, pumpkin 🥵 your titties are so fuckin insane. im so fuckin hard right now.

toji: Wyd tn? 

toji: You’ve made me so hard right now n someone’s gotta help me fix this mess. Im bout to beat myself off to this pic fuck

toji: [1 Photo] 

toji: [1 Video]

you open the photo he sent and gasp. it’s a photo of him in front of his mirror, shirtless, and him holding his clearly erect member, except it’s barely peeking through the granite counter tops of his bathroom. you open the video and see it’s a video of him…oh my god, it’s a video of him touching himself? you’re appalled and turned on because he looks so good in it and you wish it was you getting him off instead. you check the timestamp, and you’re embarrassed to realize he sent this around the time you were having your heavy makeout session with satoru or around the time you passed out shortly after.

the video continues to play as you strip yourself completely, creep to the bathroom, and turn on the shower. as you wait for it to get to the temperature you like, you continue to watch the video of toji stroking himself, and your hand automatically guides itself to your already wet and throbbing core. just knowing toji recorded this for your viewing pleasure (and it was indeed an immense pleasure viewing it) turned you on so much that you felt near your climax already. you start rubbing harsher circles on your delicate bundle of nerves, until you’re unable to hold back any longer. the sound of the shower blocks out your throaty moans, and you end up coming undone around the same time as toji does in the video. you breath heavily as you see white streaks painting toji’s shower, not dissimilar from your location. 

through heavy breaths, you quickly send a picture of your fingers resting and covering the bare “v” on your body. this time, you immediately get a response. 

toji: Fuck pumpkin, you left me all alone last night and now you do this?

immediately you respond back, biting back a smile. 

y/n: you’re the one who left me hanging all day :( i had to cum all by myself just right now looking at your video daddy

you hit send and it’s been only 10 seconds before you see that toji is ringing you. you let it ring a little bit longer, not wanting to sound desperate for him, even though you totally are. “hii toji~” you say sultrily. 

“pumpkin, you better come over tonight.” toji’s husky voice sends shivers through your spine, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes in pleasure. god, this is just what his voice does to you? you want him bad. 

“hmm, why should i? i’m hurt after you ignored me all day, toji.” you try to sound strict and upset over the phone but it’s hard when your body is already ready for another orgasm. 

“aww don’t gimme that,” toji coos. “i’ll take care of your pretty little puss- oh whoops, megumi is here, but you know what i mean.” you can hear him smirking on the other line and you almost get second-hand embarrassment from him almost saying a bad word in front of megumi. 

“how can you take care of me when you don’t even respond to my texts?” you whine. “go fuck the other girl you were fucking last night instead of me.” oh wow. you don’t know where that came from, but the hangover you have right now is making you feel brattier than usual. and you actually do want to know what he was doing (or who) all day yesterday, even if it makes you a hypocrite since you were with satoru last night (and this morning). 

you hear toji roar with laughter, a little too much in your opinion, and you pout. where does he get off laughing about how he ghosted me last night? “okay, if you must know…megumi got himself some classic food poisoning from the parent-teacher conference.” though the parent-teacher conference feels decades away, your heart drops for poor megumi and you gasp. “calm down pumpkin, he’s fine now so don’t worry. his friends just made him eat somethin’ weird on the playground, i think.”

“oh my god, toji!” you say horrified. “okay, i’m coming over tonight with some soup. and not for you okay, for megumi.” who are you kidding? you’re also partially going so toji could fuck your brains out but you’re not about to give him that satisfaction. 

“whatever you say, pumpkin. see you at 6:30? i’ll make dinner.” ugh, he always knows what to say to sound so romantic and you fall for it all the time. plus, seeing a domestic toji in the kitchen…god you can’t even think about it because you might end up screaming at how horny you might get.

“see ya, daddy.” you say jokingly. toji and you say goodbye and hang up. you quickly shoot a text to your study group quickly making up an excuse as to why you can no longer come. while nanami and haibara respond in the group with thumbs ups, satoru messages you privately. 

satoru: wtf i didn’t know fucking you this evening was still on the table?

 you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. what the hell is he on about?

y/n: what r u talkin about u weirdo

satoru doesn’t respond, and you’ve been wasting so much water already having an entire phone conversation with toji and, admittedly touching yourself that you might as well get in. the hot shower envelops your sore body, and before you’re able to fully wet yourself, you hear the ding of your phone. you really shouldn’t…but you were never good at controlling yourself. you quickly open the shower and bring your phone in, shielding it from the water. 

satoru: u obvi cancelled to see toji im not stupid

y/n: no comment 

satoru: cancel on him i promise u baby i will fuck u better and harder tn

your eyes widen at the offer. you recall a couple nights ago refusing a similar offer he texted you, but this time felt more serious. you want to see toji, but you also want to see satoru. you’re about to mull over the options before an image of a sick megumi pops into your forehead, and you immediately know you have to go to toji to at the very least see megumi and maybe read him a couple bedtime stories and help him with some missed homework. 

y/n: toji’s kid got food poisoning :( i feel like i should go see him but…let’s link tomorrow?

satoru: he’s using his kid to get pussy that is insane. but yes ok fine cya -_-

you chuck your phone outside the shower, and close your eyes. you try to think of things that don’t involve sexy moments with satoru or toji…or satoru and toji and instead think of how much extra studying you have to get done tonight since you’re opting to go to see toji. as always, you fail to think of anything else.

the timer for the soup you’re making for megumi beeps and you turn it off hastily, determined to finish up one last problem set before going to the kitchen. through some miraculous intervention (and advil), you were able to hunker down and solve through the problem sets you were supposed to solve with your study group and prepare a simple chicken soup for megumi. after five minutes, you check your work hastily, before deciding it’s enough for you to get full marks and sprint to the kitchen, which now smells like chicken stock and veggies and you hum. you’re excited for megumi to try the soup your mom had made for you whenever you had food poisoning. 

you go back to your room and finish packing your bags and picking your outfit for the night. since you’re  just staying indoors with toji, and the weather says it’ll be a pretty warm evening, you opt for your comfiest pair of fleece shorts and a well loved collegiate sweatshirt. you’ve perfected the art of a “no makeup” makeup look throughout the years, so you’re able to get by with just throwing your hair in a messy bun and calling it day. you quickly grab a large to-go soup container for the soup and pack your bags to head to toji’s place. 

you hate feeling like a child but just merely thinking of seeing toji after him being so distant with you yesterday has your heart doing cartwheels like you’re in fifth grade with a crush. you’re also excited to see a domestic toji in action in his fancy kitchen. maybe a bit too excited, you think, as you feel the wetness pool around your core. god, snap out of it already! the night hasn’t even started yet. 

you drive into toji’s 4-car driveway, only to see toji’s garage door open. huh, that’s weird. you normally park in his driveway (he’s asked you to so you’re not left walking to your car during the late nights when you babysit) so you pull up anyway, despite the confusion. you see toji’s head peek through the garage door inside and he looks…oh, he looks kinda upset. you’re about to get out of the car and meet toji but he starts to walk towards you, his face only softening a tiny bit, which is unusual. oh, something must’ve really annoyed him. 

you open your car door and get out halfway to talk to toji. “hey toji, you okay? what’s wrong?” your voice is laced with concern. once toji gets within arms length of you, you reach up and start rubbing his chest in an effort to sooth him. 

toji grunts, and quickly leans down to peck your lips. “sorry pumpkin, megumi just told me he signed up to bring brownies for his soccer potluck early tomorrow morning. n’ they gotta be homemade.”

you furrow your brows even more in confusion. you know about the monthly potlucks megumi has with his soccer team on the weekends, but there’s usually some silly theme to them (last month’s was barbie themed so everyone had to bring in something pink). you guess this time around the theme is homemade meals and treats. “what’s the issue? there’s still plenty of time to grab something from the store…”

“the issue is i wanted to use that time to cook something nice for my son’s insanely hot babysitter, y/n.” toji replies bluntly. 

“ohh~” it came out of you by accident, and you’re a little embarrassed as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “th-that’s fine toji. you don’t need to-”

“i wanted to…and then i wanted to eat her pussy for dessert.” his eyes darken and he smirks coyly. toji pulls your body closer to his and leans down to give you your first proper kiss of the night. your arms wrap around his neck, which he uses as a signal to deepen the kiss by inserting his tongue into your mouth. you allow him and his tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of your mouth. you find yourself moaning into the kiss softly and tugging on his hair, until you hear megumi yell for toji from the garage. you both immediately snap back into a respectful distance apart. 

“daddy, i’m ready to go.” megumi says, his voice slightly tired. you grab your bag and soup container from your car and walk inside the garage to greet megumi, who’s eyes beam when they see you. he runs to you for a hug, which you gladly return with one hand. 

“hey there, kiddo. heard you were sick last night,” you say pityingly. 

“yeah i ‘frew up because yuji and nobara dared me to eat some weird smelling cheese from the cafeteria.”

you make a disgusted face. “megumiii, you have to stop doing stuff because you think it’ll make you look cool. it’s just gross.” you stand up and turn to toji. “i made him some chicken soup, it’s still warm so be careful but i think it might help him out.” 

toji thanks you and takes the soup and your bag from you. he tells you to wait out here with megumi while he quickly puts it inside the fridge. you turn to megumi sympathetically again. “how are you feelin’ now, bud?”

“i’m totally fine now!!!” he says very energetically, doing various dramatic stretches to supposedly “prove” that he was all good. “but…daddy’s mad because now he has to make brownies instead of dinner for us.”

“daddy will get over it, don’t worry.” you wink to megumi. “i’ll put in a good word for you. maybe i’ll even help you bake some brownies, kay?”

megumi’s eyes light up at the sound of baking a sweet treat with you, and it melts your heart. “really?! you mean it?!” you nod in response and give his cheeks a friendly pinch, causing him to laugh. 

“what’s going on, you guys talking shit about me?” toji walks into the garage, and you finally get a proper glimpse of what he’s wearing: loose slim fitted grey sweats and a skin tight compression shirt (that perfectly shows off his toned chest), which he’s currently covering up (to your dismay) with a black fitted quarter zip. it almost makes you forget about how he swore in front of megumi. almost. 

“toji! don’t say that word in front of your son, oh my god.” you playfully chastise him as you pretend to cover megumi’s ears. 

“fuck, my bad. megumi, don’t say what i say.” toji says without a care in the world. 

“shit!” megumi says out loud, and he’s about to say another word but you give him a disappointed glare, which makes him immediately stop saying more alleged swear words. “to be fair, i learn most bad words from nobara. she knows soo many…” okay, you need to dissect that later with him. 

you notice toji reaching for his car keys and you start protesting. “wait, toji, i can drive us. my car is already open and in your driveway anyway…” you’ve never driven toji anywhere, and it’s kind of exciting to potentially have that opportunity now. toji seems to hesitate for a bit, purely out of ego of letting the girl he’s sleeping with drive him somewhere, but acquiesces. you give him a bright smile before taking megumi’s hands and heading to your car. you get him seated in the backseat of your mini cooper, and megumi marvels at being inside your car for the first time. 

“woah! this car is so small and tiny and fun sized!” he says while laughing, and you ruffle his hair. finally, the first person to ever say something nice about the size of your car! 

you shut the door and see toji already on the passenger side furrowing his brows while looking at your car. you know this look. you’ve seen this look on satoru and suguru, and any guy who’s over 6 feet tall and is riding in your car for the first time. 

“pumpkin, i am not gonna fit inside here. let’s just take my car.” 

“don’t be dramatic, you’ll fit. everyone fits inside this car. now get in.” you huff, already getting settled inside and putting on your seatbelt. toji get into the passenger seat, and the sheer weight of his build causes the car to shake. he adjusts his seat and tries to get as comfortable as he can. you see his legs are bent in uncomfortable angles as he puts his seatbelt on. 

“this is the last time i’m getting in your tiny ass car, y/n. i feel like i’m about to die.” oh he called you by your name. he’s definitely hating this but…he did ignore you the whole day yesterday. sure, megumi was sick but it would’ve taken 10 seconds max to say that through text. 

you start to back out of his driveway and drive to the nearby target. “you’ll get over it. also, i was thinking…” you make eye contact with megumi from the backseat and give him a wink and he returns one as well. “maybe i can help megumi with baking brownies, too. and maybe we can just order takeout instead? spend the rest of time helping megs get his rest for tomorrow?”

you bite your lip and turn to face toji during a red light. you hate to sound cocky, but you know he can’t resist you when you’re looking at him like this, and you’re right. toji obliges, but swears he’s going to pay for dinner regardless, and you don’t object. 

megumi fills the car ride with random tidbits and stories from school and his sick day yesterday while you and toji entertain him. throughout the ride, toji alternates between holding your free hand and rubbing circles on your thighs while you drive, which you make a mental note of telling him not to do because it definitely distracts you from the road. 

at target, the three of you grab ingredients for the brownies pretty quickly, before getting in a moderately long line. while waiting, your eyes wander and see the cutest black lace bralette (pretty similar to the one satoru destroyed last night). you really want to check it out, so you quickly tell toji and get closer to inspect it. the beautiful lace designs are just so your style, and the price range is perfect, too. you make another mental note to come back and make satoru buy it for you. 

“like what you see?” toji’s voice startles you and you turn around quickly, and feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “i think you’d look sexy in it, for what it’s worth.”

“th-thanks, toji. i might get it later…”

“you should get it now. i’ll buy it for you. after all, your bralette got ripped last night, right?” what. the. fuck?

the color drains from your face and if you weren’t feeling hot before, you sure are burning up right now. your throat feels dry and you start stuttering. “wha-what are you talkin’ abou-”

“the one that…god what was his name? satoru? yeah, the one that satoru ripped, right?” toji is fully smirking amusedly now, and you look like a deer caught in his headlights at his mercy. 

“h-how do you know th-that?” you say, your eyes widening at your (slutty) night out being caught by toji. 

“oh, sorry, i thought you knew. i called you last night, pumpkin, remember?” toji inches closer to you and his pupils dilate. your breathing gets more erratic and heavy. what? no he didn’t. or did he? oh my god. it hits you that you answered his call via your body movements with satoru and you didn’t know. and you didn’t bother checking your call logs this morning because there was no missed call from toji since you technically answered it. oh my god. 

“you made me so fuckin’ hard with that pic of your tits, y/n. i had to call you to help me get off, but it seems like you were too busy getting off too.” toji’s lips are inches from your ears, and you can feel his breath as he whispers in your ear, and it makes your eyes roll far back in your head. “i can’t lie, pumpkin, your moans while he was playing with you…” toji groans and you dare to look down his hips to see a tent forming in his gray sweats, making your breath hitch. “it made me so fuckin’ turned on that i just had to touch myself to it. but don’t worry, you didn’t miss much. i sent you a full video of it, too.” 

you have to bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from moaning in the middle of the women’s section of target out of all fucking places, but you let out the tiniest whimper that only toji can hear. 

“don’t worry, pumpkin. i’m not mad you were with someone else. you’re such a needy slut who needs to be taken care of, and when daddy can’t help, you have to find your own way, isn’t that right?” he grabs your jaw roughly and forces you to make eye contact with him. “answer me, pumpkin.” he says more forcefully. 

oh, you are so finished. you are done for. your panties are a complete mess and you wish you had brought a second pair with you because they are just ruined. you swallow before answering toji with a shaky “yes daddy.”

toji releases your jaw, but not before giving your lips a quick peck that leaves you wanting more. way more. he squeezes your ass, which you don’t expect and let out an unfortunate and embarrassing squeak, causing a handful of people nearby you guys to turn around and wonder about the noise for half a second. toji grabs the bralette and heads back to the line where he made megumi wait with the cart. you take a moment to yourself to process the information toji revealed and get your breathing under control before heading back. you feel like maybe you should be upset about this, but…it’s just turning you on? those forbidden feelings you’ve been having about satoru and toji taking you at the same time are bubbling to the surface with toji’s confession, and you force them down unsuccessfully. toji’s a fuckin’ freak but that just turns you on even more. 

in the car, you’re still unable to properly hold a conversation with megumi and toji properly because of how flustered you are. you crack a window open, and you bite your lips so hard that you’re sure you bruised them when toji places his hand on your thigh again. a mangled moan gets stuck in your throat and you cough quickly to cover up any suspicion. 

“s-so, what are we gonna do for dinner? t-takeout? where?” you stutter, quickly trying to regain your composure. 

“i want taco bell!” megumi yells excitedly from the backseat.

“megumi, y/n is our guest here. we can’t just take her to taco bell. think of a nicer place than that. what about panda express?” toji turns around to chastise megumi, but his hands are still firmly gripping your thigh. 

you cough again and wish you had a bottle of water to help your dry throat. “i love taco bell! let’s go, it’s okay,  toji.” you press to start the car ignition, and ride to taco bell is anything but silent, with megumi talking about the countless items he wanted to get from taco bell, and toji dissuading him from doing so. 

“even if you’re feeling better, why in the world would you want to eat a chicken crispanada? who even told you about that?” toji asks exasperatedly. 

it’s probably yuji, he’s always eating something weird.

“yuji told me about it.” megumi says without missing a beat, causing you to smile. by the time you pull up to the taco bell drive-thru, toji has talked down megumi to reduce his never ending list of taco bell items, but not by a lot (“he’s a growing boy!” you told toji). 

toji does the honors of remembering everyone’s orders and responding to the cashier when he asks what the order is. “yeah, uh, hi, can we get 5 crunchy tacos, 1 mexican pizza, 1 chicken crispinada…”

“CINNABON DELIGHTS!” megumi interrupts from the backseat. 

“yeah, uh, the 12 pack cinnabon delights…” toji looks over at you to get your order. you whisper to him you want a crunchwrap supreme and he frowns when that’s the only thing you want. “you gotta have something else, pumpkin…” he encourages. you know you probably should, but there’s no way you can eat as much as him and megumi, which makes you hesitate. 

“i just don’t think i can finish another thing by myself…” you say quickly, knowing the cashier might be getting annoyed at how long it’s taking for you guys to order, but toji doesn’t seem to care. 

“we can split some nachos, yeah?” toji squeezes your thigh reassuringly, and you smile and nod. 

“yeah, and maybe a nacho bell grande? that’s all for us.” the cashier sounds bored and he tells you guys the total and asks you to pull to the front. in the front window, the bored cashier’s expression immediately changes when he looks at you…wait. not you. 

the cashier immediately straightens up and adjusts his shirt. he looks almost nervous as he reads out loud the order you guys have, but stutters every time he looks up and makes eye contact with…toji. he stutters out the total, and toji smirks at him while he takes out his wallet and pulls out his card, passing it to you to pass to the cashier. the cashier hesitates to run his card, and it looks like he’s deep in thought before he starts to speak, this time more confidently. 

“um, actually, sir, we’re having a new promotion if you’re interested…”

toji hums in response. “and what’s that?” he asks it so sensually that you have to do a flabbergasted double take between the two of them. is this what you think it is?

“you see, the meal’s on the house…in exchange for your number.” the cashier coyly returns a smile to toji, not breaking eye contact with him, and as a result, totally ignoring you and megumi in the car. you sneak a glance behind you at megumi and you’re surprised to see him looking completely bored and unamused by what’s happening. 

“gimme a pen and the receipt and you got it, sugar.” toji’s response is a bit too quick for your liking, but you’re still in shock as a quickly jots down his digits before handing the receipt back to the cashier and pocketing his card. the cashier winks at him as you drive up to the second window for your food and toji looks completely unphased by what just transpired. you turn to look at him incredulously, with wide confused eyes and your dropped. 

“what…was that?!”

“jealous? don’t worry about it, pumpkin. not the first time someone’s asked me  my number for a free meal.” he chuckles, still nonplussed about the entire interaction. 

you shake your head, baffled. “w-what? so you’re telling me multiple are just? into you like this? also i’m not jealous!”

toji shrugs and grins. “guess so. i mostly care about the free meal, and currently, my eyes are for you.” he assures you by squeezing your hands quickly and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. 

you laugh at how absurd it is. no way he’s flirting with cashiers for a free meal. you make a mental note to tell shoko about it later, even though you know it will just fan the “toji doesn’t have a job” flames even more. “oh my god, you’re a slut! you, like,  just give it up real easy, huh?” you tease, but you make sure to mouth the word “slut” so megumi can’t hear the foul language. 

“you’re one to talk,” toji says, and you both laugh as you get your food and drive home quickly before the food gets cold. 

at toji’s place, toji helps set the dinner table for megumi, while you offer to start on the brownies since you weren’t as hungry. toji sits at the dinner table with megumi, and you both entertain him and his jokes and stories as he eats his dinner hungrily. after a particularly disgusting story about yuji eating a worm on the playground (“this is why you’re getting food poisoning so much, megs!” toji says while you chastise him once again about the dangers of peer pressure), you can feel megumi’s voice get lower as he gets more tired. it makes sense – he had a rough day yesterday, and so he’s more tired today. 

“someone’s sleepyyyy” you sing and lightly tease megumi, as you fill up a cup of water for him. 

“i’m not! i’m very awake and i can watch-” megumi is interrupted by his own yawn which he fails to hide from either of you. “i can watch some tv. i need to watch more euphoria…” he pleads. 

“what is this show you’re watching?” toji questions, looking at megumi quizzically as he starts throwing away trash from megumi’s dinner. your eyes widen and before megumi answers, toji cuts him off. “doesn't matter. no tv for you because your body needs to recover and you need to sleep early tonight.”

megumi pouts so hard that tears begin to brim his eyes. “but this isn’t fair,” he whines. 

toji picks him up with one arm with ease (did his biceps get even bigger?). “tell you what, you go to sleep early, and let me and y/n bake your brownies for you. and i promise you i’ll let you have a brownie for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

you shoot toji a frown. you always try to prep some overnight oats or pancakes or something more balanced for megumi to have in the mornings after you leave, but you know toji has to lose some battles to win some to avoid a crying temper tantrum tonight. toji shrugs as he looks at you and throws the remaining trash away, as megumi immediately cheers up hearing about his impending brownie breakfast. 

toji turns to you. “gonna put him to bed, be right back, pumpkin.” he gives you a quick wink which sets your heart ablaze, thinking about what the rest of the night will hold. your dinner is probably cold but you don’t care as you’re back in the target clothing section, toji’s words sending a chill across your spine and drying your throat. you both haven’t gotten alone time since then, and, as much as you hate to admit it, you feel yourself getting wet through your panties. 

you take a seat after setting out  the ingredients for the brownies on the granite counter, and have to cross your legs to prevent your thoughts from getting too dirty too fast…

[fuckingdrawbacks]

i still feel shitty and it pains me that i cant tell u that.

i remember winter when we still had our honeymoon phase. we walked around, holding hands, cuddling, eating those curly fries and falling asleep together. i remember walking on that winter fair the first time we went there together. it felt magical and after those two years, i still fucking wish we could go there together again. i wish we could drive in your parents car to your city, ticking each other every now and then, holding hands and resting our heads on each other's shoulders.

i remember when you got your septum piercing. you sent me to your apartment to hide those piercings and to prepare for your parents to come. i think it was early November, because i had that spooky seasonal starbucks drink. i couldn't get into your apartment because we hid the key inside the building, but i couldn't get into it. i wanted to pick the lock, but every now and then someone would walk somewhere. ultimately someone was going in and i went behind him. it's a stupid memory but i remember it so vividly. i remember the spark in your eyes when we were sitting in your room.

i remember waking up on those early winter mornings, all cold because of your fixation with opening the windows. i was really fucking cold, because you always took all of the blankets over to your side, and i wanted you to be cozy. i felt cold on my skin, but inside i was all warm, because i was laying by your side and i was so fucking happy. i wish we could go back in time, so that i still could fall asleep next to you.

i remember your sleeping face when i woke up before you. it's so clear. i don't even remember how you look now, but i perfectly recall every single detail about how you looked on those mornings. i remember your stripy shorts and your (occasionally blank) white tee. i remember you looking for your frog plushie when it fell from the bed. i always helped you look for it and i found it first pretty often. i wonder if you also have those memories. i really hope that they are not painful to you.

i wonder what you think of me; i wonder if you still love me at least a little bit.

i still hope that one day we will get together again. i don't know if i love you for who you are right now, i don't even think that i really know you right now. but i'm 1000000% sure i still love the person you were when we first met. i know that you're not that person anymore, but even if there's still a part of her in you, i still love you to death.

i wish you could read those messages, i wish they could change anything, i wish you wouldn't tell me that i should talk to someone. i wish i could talk to you instead. i wish i could hold your hand, i wish i could wake up and see your sleeping face again.

my mind has been racing a lot lately. i had troubles sleeping for a while now, but i don't think they were so severe as they are right now. the last time i fell asleep quickly and didn't feel tired when i woke up was back in your apartment. i think every single time we slept together i fell asleep quickly. i think i felt safe; my mind wasn't racing, my heart wasn't beating so hard that i could literally hear it. i've been having problems with that too. i try to fall asleep, and after a while my heart starts beating so fast that i feel like im about to faint. maybe i should get it checked out, but honestly, i don't want to live if i can't be by your side.

i don't want to be that guy; i don't want to sound like an asshole, but i feel like there's no one that will love you as much as i do. i hope that it's not true; i hope that you will find love and that you will feel loved and appreciated and that you will actually feel good. i just wish so fucking much that it could be me.

i cried so much when i came back home after that night. i lost you and all that was keeping me alive was my dog. now that she's gone too, i've been feeling nothing. i've been feeling empty, without any point in life. i feel like it's not real, that i will wake up any moment; that i will walk downstairs and that she will be there, sleeping where she always were.

i find myself breaking down more and more lately. maybe it's for the better, because after some crying i'm able to fall asleep. the only thought that puts me at ease is you. it's so fucked up that after all that time i'm still breaking down and i'm unable to calm down without thinking of you. and you don't know about it, you just play some games with him, and you spend your days without even thinking about me once. maybe it's not true and i don't want to blame you - i'm not - but it feels weird to me that i'm still addicted to you and that you don't give a shit about me. i mean, not that i'm telling you about this, so why would you. i'll be fine eventually. i really hope so.

i remember your face when you facetimed me that one time you didn't want to come home. i remember how much tears you shed; i remember how your skin was shining because of those tears. i felt so scared. you were living in a dangerous place and it was pitch black outside. i remember how my voice was breaking when i asked my dad if he could drive me over to you. i remember how scared i was when driving to you. and i remember how broken i felt when i came to your room and you didn't even look at me. i didn't expect you to come into my arms; i didn't do it for me to feel better. i just wanted to see that you were okay and i was scared that you would do something to yourself. i always cared about you so so so much, i still do. i still occasionally get thoughts that you did something to yourself, that maybe something has hit you, that maybe you fell over. i don't fucking know, i just hate not knowing if you're okay. i never cared about a human being as much as i cared about you. i don't care about a human being as much as i STILL TO THIS DAY care about you. even after all of this, you're still my everything. i love you so fucking much and i miss you so much, i can't even articulate how much i miss you. i prayed to every god i know; i even bought stupid fiverr manifestations for us to come together; i beg every power that there may be for me to wake up in the morning back in 2021. everything reminds me of you - i went outside one day to feed that cat that comes to us and i felt like when i was coming to your apartment from the bus stop. just because it was an afternoon during fall. i still fucking feel like that every time i go out. i need to focus so much to not just burst into tears every time i go outside during fall/winter. just because i remember when we used to go out when there were fallen leaves everywhere. and i miss it so much.

i still didn't remove a single picture with you. they're all there, just in the hidden section, so that i don't stumble upon them by accident. i don't want to remove them in case we get together. i don't want to lose those memories. i don't want to lose reminiscence of the last time i felt happy. and i'm not joking - i don't remember a single time i felt actually good and happy since that night when i went out to look for you. i've been feeling empty ever since. like there was a part of me locked(?), like i left something with you.

i remember when we used to go shopping; i remember listening to music with one airpod each; i remember when you put that plunger on your head, i remember walking in those funny shops looking for stuff that could be funny. i wish i put that stupid necklace on, i wish i made one for you as well. i hate myself for not doing things like that in the moment. i fucking hate myself for that so much. every time i think of it i want to kill myself right on the spot. i wish there was anything that would fix what i did or didn't do in the moment. i feel so terrible having to live with those memories. i tried to get over them; i tried to forget them, i tried to hate you, i tried to just like you. nothing helped, nothing made me stop loving you and nothing made me feel better. you told me countless times that you don't remember half of the stuff i've been reliving every, single, night. i've tried to re-associate words we used or music we listened to. nothing worked. everything still reminds me of you. you changed me so much. you made me feel loved. you made me feel what love is and what actually caring about someone is. and i don't think i will ever get over you; that i will ever love someone as much as i loved you. and that i will ever feel as loved as much as you did.

sometimes i wish my parents hated me; i wish i ran away or something. i wish i could disappear or just kill myself without hurting others. i already lost my dog, and i feel so empty without her. there were many times when i almost killed myself and every time i didn't do it, it was because i got scared of how she would feel when i disappeared; how she wouldn't know what happened to me and how she would wait for me to come back. i feel scared of what will happen when i feel the urge to kill myself.

i don't think i will ever learn to live with just memories of you. i wish we could go to that winter fair and eat sushi at your parents house again.

[turtle-steverogers]

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

-

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

-

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

-

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

-

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

-

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

-

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

-

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

-

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

-

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

[folkloreguk]

French Class [7]

A/N: AAAH I apologize in advance for this part bc I feel like it's kinda messy :/ I hope you still like it though?? Lmk what you think! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, angst, H/N is a jealous and drunk fool :/

words: ~ 3.7 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @yeostars, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon, @tr-wemoon, @prismwon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek, @r-eadings

H/N’s POV:

Maybe I’ll come ‘round, your text had said. How did you expect him to enjoy the party if you wouldn’t be there? H/N used to make fun of guys who ran after girls like lap dogs. And yet, over time he had become one of them, if not worse. Every text, every possibility of seeing you had him on the edge of his seat in excitement. There was nothing he cared about more than spending time with you. When at first it had been sexual attraction – an obsession with your body and the way you turned him on with the most subtle words and touches – it had changed into something entirely different. The relentless hunger was now occasional, ever so often interrupted by a dire wish to see you smile. A wish to hold you, and to kiss you out of the blue – something he wasn’t allowed to do if it wasn’t for the two of you hooking up. The stupid agreement you had made was starting to feel like torture instead of heaven. He was lucky his poker face was professional, and he had years of practice in flirting and sounding casual even if his heart was beating up to his neck. There was no other way he could have concealed how infatuated he was with you, otherwise.

“H/N, come help me set up the snacks!” Korain shouted from the kitchen. H/N’s friends were throwing a party at their place, and he had shown up early to assist them in preparing everything. With you on his mind – as always – he trotted into the kitchen where a row of bowls was standing out on the counter.

“Just open and pour the bags into the bowls, will you? I still need to get ready,” Korain said. “Chohee said she might be here a bit earlier, and I don’t want to look like this when she’s going to look amazing.”

Korain gestured to his bed hair he probably hadn’t brushed once since getting up and then tweaked the fabric of his sweatpants and his old, baggy tee. H/N wanted to argue that if Chohee really liked Korain, she wouldn’t mind seeing him this way. H/N, for one, couldn’t care less what you wore tonight. As long as you showed up at all, he would be beaming. Strictly speaking, at times when he got to see you wake up, sleep in your eyes and your clothes in a disarray, it spun his head in ways no little black dress could ever do. When he saw you make breakfast in his kitchen, in his shirt, he could barely contain himself.

His daydreams of you were once naughty and gave him boners at random times of the day – and don’t get me wrong, they still were, sometimes – but it was when the domestic dreams had begun, that he realized he was screwed. He didn’t need anybody to tell him how he felt, nor did he have some crazy moment of clarity. There came a point in his days where he didn’t just notice his non-sexual daydreams of you, he invited them. His brain was imagining things like setting up a shared table for dinner or kissing the back of your hand in the dark of a movie theater or playing you a cheesy song that reminded him of you. He wanted to hold your hands from across the library table and have his arm around your shoulders to show you off to the entire campus. But none of it could be real. It all went against the rules.

“Will Y/N be here too?” Korain asked and pulled H/N out of his daydreams. God, I hope so, he thought.

“She said she might be here,” H/N answered.

“Chohee’s always talking about her. And you. About how she thinks Y/N has a crush on you, but she always denies it, saying you’re just friends. Maybe you could try and bring that up tonight?” Korain said, as if discussing your feelings for someone was as easy at conversing about the weather. “Alright, I really have to go get ready now.”

“I’ve been thinking, I might- “ said H/N, but Korain only pat his shoulder.

“Let’s talk later, at the party, okay?” he said, and walked out the kitchen. I might like her, H/N had been meaning to say. I might like Y/N. No. I’m in love with her. No maybes. He could bet all his money on it, that’s how sure he was. But his friend had disappeared and now it was on him to wait until the party began. Left alone with his thoughts.

Of course, you would deny having a crush on him. Because you probably didn’t, he thought. Wouldn’t you search for a smart guy, someone your mother would approve of, and someone who understood your endless talks of nerdy topics? Although sometimes he had no idea what you were on about, H/N was captivated whenever you gave him a lecture about something you had learned. And when he asked you to explain something one more time, you never hesitated, or judged him for it. Your kindness made his heart swell, and only when the first crowd of party guests arrived did he realize he had spent half an hour daydreaming about you. Again.

With the way he kept the front door in his sight at all times, one could have wondered if he was a highly wanted criminal on the run, afraid the cops could barge in at any moment. Some of the girls who tried to flirt with him even asked him about it, but he wasn’t going to confess he was waiting for the love of his life to walk through that very door. With little conviction he returned their flirting. He hated himself for the thoughts he had. Thinking that should you not arrive, he could console himself by taking one of the other girls home instead. They didn’t deserve to be used like that, but he was bitter and so, so in love with you. It was hard to pay any attention to the other girls at all, no matter how sweet they were being.

Flirting back at them, however, came to him as easily as the words to his favorite songs. It posed no challenge, like it did with you. When he had to try hard to make your cheeks heat up, or to lure out a shy smile instead of your genius, quick-witted remarks. There was nothing more exciting to him than to invent new ways in which he could make you flustered.

Right now, it was his turn to be flustered. Because his ex had approached him and was reciting some of her favorite memories she had of their relationship. “Remember our third date…the one that ended with us squished in that tiny dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?” she asked and blinked at him expectantly. He went along with her words and replied something not too direct, but still enough to make her giggle like a little girl.

It was his own fault she was so intent on talking to him. While you had been on your date with the economy-major-guy, H/N had tried to contact his ex again. In hindsight, he thought it pathetic and extremely stupid at that. Nothing would have come of it, anyway. Not while he felt the way he did about you. So it was only lucky his ex hadn’t been free that night. Then he had gotten dangerously close to drowning his feelings in the vodka in his kitchen. Thankfully he had refrained from this, too, because you had shown up afterwards and you had ended up having mind-blowing sex, and he knew for a fact that had he been drunk, he would have blurted out some crazy sentiments he would have regretted saying in the morning.

Sometimes he tried to signal you his emotions, ever so subtly. Waving off your claims when you called him the campus fuckboy or telling you he wasn’t really hooking up with anyone else besides you, it all was an attempt at making you see what he felt for you. He would tell you that you looked pretty, not just so you would understand he liked you, but simply because it had to be said. When he regarded you fixing your hair in the mirror with a frown, he could barely believe you didn’t know how beautiful you were. And he had gotten closer to you during sex. Whether it was voluntary or an instinct that came with being in love, he wasn’t certain. There was nothing like kissing away your moans while he fucked you into a mattress.

He was about to text you – the urge to see you getting unbearable – but didn’t want to sound clingy when you strut through the door. No slow motion or fan blowing your hair around dramatically would have made you look more perfect. The ridiculous pang he felt in his heart when he saw you hug another guy only reminded him of how whipped he was. He reminded himself that he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t his girlfriend, after all. When you then made eye contact with him and made a beeline for him, he was worried he’d be short of words. He needed to pull himself together.

“Hi,” you said, and your smile was magical enough to stir up the butterflies in H/N’s stomach. You pointed at the empty spot on the sofa between H/N and another guy you didn’t know. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” the guy said, before H/N had time to speak, and the stranger smiled at you in a way that could only mean he wanted to get to know you. But H/N caught your attention by swiftly putting his arm around your shoulder, making the stranger back up and divert his eyes the other way. He had never meant to be the jealous type. It was just that you were finally here, and he was so happy to see you, he couldn’t bare the thought of you running off again. Only when you gave him a funny look H/N realized he needed to calm down if he didn’t want you to get annoyed.

“So, what did I miss?” you asked.

His ex was approaching from across the room again, and before he could have stopped his mouth, he said the stupidest thing. “Kiss me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but he was intent on it. “Please. Kiss me. Quick.”

There was a strange emotion that crept over your face, and you seemed to have no clue why he was so set on it. Nevertheless, you did as he asked. Your mouth tasted of watermelon bubblegum, so sweet, so perfect, and he was flying on cloud nine for the short while it lasted. It wasn’t real, though. The thought stabbed his brain like a dagger. When you pulled apart you were grinning, and his ex wasn’t in the room anymore.

“Care to explain why we just did that?” you asked. “You’re diminishing your chances with the ladies in the room.”

He rolled his eyes. “My ex has been trying to get with me again, and I hoped she’d let off if she saw us kiss. And she did.” Then his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean by my chances with the ladies? I was hoping we could go home together.”

“I can’t tonight,” you said, and he had to fight to keep his face straight. “I’ve got to get back to studying first thing tomorrow morning. I just came here to hang out, for a while.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster without sounding like you were ripping out his heart. It wasn’t even your fault. He would never try and get between you and your studies. But what if he could be there? What if he could be the one staying in bed, watching as you climbed up early to bury your head in books? He’d watch you through tired eyelashes, and you’d ridicule him for being so starry-eyed when looking at you. Later he’d bring you tea or coffee and remind you to take a break to eat. Was it ludicrous to obsess over something so domestic? He didn’t feel guilty for it.

All at once, your laugh pulled him out of his daydream, and into a funny story you told him. Over-consciously, he noted how your arm went around his shoulder lazily. And for a while you sat and talked. Occasionally a flirty remark slipped over your lips, and he would always return it. It was idiotic, but he was already worrying about how much he would miss you once you went home. Perhaps his plan of consoling himself with another girl hadn’t been so bad, after all. Just as he had finished the thought, a familiar face walked by and noticed him. The alcohol in his veins made her seem perfectly inviting as a distraction, for later.

“Oh, hey. Y/N, this is Minji,” he said, pointing at the girl. “Minji, this is Y/N. She’s…just a friend.”

Instantly, you removed your arm from his shoulder. There was hidden pain in your gesture, or was it merely wishful thinking on his side? Minji nodded and greeted you, but you only waved her off with a polite smile.

“I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen,” you announced, and before he could have stopped you, you had walked off. For a while he chatted with Minji, because he had no good reason to run after you that wouldn’t create awkwardness. His patience lasted approximately ten minutes. Luckily, a friend waved at Minji from across the room and she excused herself. Although he would never wish her ill, he was glad she was leaving.

Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen, where he found you talking to a guy. Without thinking, H/N smiled at you as he came up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He hadn’t meant to look so intimidating, and he hadn’t meant to be an asshole either. Yet, the guy across from you appeared scared and when you turned your attention to H/N, the guy slowly retracted into another circle of chatting people. Guilt crept in on H/N. He was tipsy, and although he knew his drunkenness wasn’t an excuse, it made him want you so much more. Perhaps it was also insecurity making him act crazy. There was always a glimmer of hope in the back of his mind, that you might just like him back. So long as you hadn’t confirmed the opposite, he would live in constant terror that someone else could steal your attention and make you theirs before he could.

“Come with me,” you muttered in his ear. Your hand was around his wrist, and he had no choice but to trot after you like a child. At first, he thought you were going to take him out the front door, but then you made a turn for the stairs. He didn’t need to be a fuckboy to know what it meant when a girl walked him up the stairs. From one second to the other, his mood changed into gleefulness. Had you changed your mind? The mere thoughts of what could happen upstairs could have given him a boner, had he pondered on them for longer. You said nothing, only driving him more insane by the second. The first open door was good enough for you, so you pulled him inside and closed it behind you. Smirking, he reached for your waist, ready to pull you into a kiss.

“Don’t,” you hissed, and he flinched at your angry tone. He kept his hands to himself, kneading them nervously. Shit. This was the clear opposite of what he had anticipated. The two of you had never fought, and hearing your voice, sounding so deeply upset, scared him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to make out- “ he said.

“I don’t mean just now. I mean…what is it you’re trying to achieve by acting all possessive over me in front of random guys? Pretending I belong to you? But the second a pretty girl is in front of you I’m just a friend, aren’t I? What’s that about?”

There was no explaining this, and he knew it. Yet, he would try, pathetically. “I just thought you didn’t want those guys bothering you.”

“I can handle a guy by myself, thank you,” you snapped. “If I needed help, I’d ask. Like you did. Apparently, I’m good enough to be used as an escape from your ex, but when hot Minji came around you wouldn’t even blink when I got up and left.”

“Usedas an escape?” he asked in disbelief. “You didn’t have to kiss me, but you did anyway.”

“That’s because I was trying to be a good fucking friend!” you yelled now, sounding over the music from the party.

“You used me too, don’t you remember?” he countered. “Or did you not show up on my doorstep after your terrible date so I would fuck you and make you feel better?”

You looked taken aback for a moment, knowing he was right, in a way.

“It’s like you’re always trying to get away from me, but you can’t,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, every trace of guilt washed away. “Get off your high horse! Isn’t that the whole point of us? That we’re using each other for sex? Nothing more than that, right? If I walked out now, you could go and find the next girl in line to take over instead of me. Didn’t you try to see someone while I was chatting to the guy I went on a date with? It’s all about using people, isn’t it? If things with the guy had gotten more serious for me, you’d have her, ready for you. Don’t you think that’s a little messed up? Leading someone on like that?”

There was truth to your words. He had tried to find someone to date, should you have found someone too and your friends-with-benefits relationship had been over. But he hadn’t led her on. He had been honest in letting the girl know he wasn’t sure if he wanted anything serious. His chest was hurting, and the pain was only making him more furious.

“Yeah, I could have switched you for her,” he said coldly. Was he only trying to hurt you now? Perhaps, but you had hurt him first.

“Right, because that’s all I am to you,” you said, quieter than before.

“That was our plan! You’re my fuck buddy, nothing more!” he raised his voice now, tired of your empty words and signs. “You have no right to accuse me of anything when I’m playing by the rules. The rules you made. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. Start the game over. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now.”

“Start over?”

“Go back to when we were just horny for each other and nothing else,” he said, as if that would be possible. As if he could ignore the way your eyes shined, even in the dim light coming from the streetlamps outside. Like he could pretend he didn’t want to hold you and make you forget all about this terrible fight.

“Fine, let’s try,” you said, and he watched in astonishment, as you closed the gap between the two of you. When you tilted your head, he gave you permission by doing the same. When you kissed, with teeth clashing and exhausted sighs mixing up, he swore there were bombs going off somewhere in his head. Alarm bells, too. This was by no means a great idea. But what could have stopped him and his hungry mouth? He backed you against the wall and pressed you into it, hard. Before he had registered it, his hands were pushing up the fabric of your dress and you moaned, sounding so beautiful he could barely believe it. One of his thighs forced its way between your legs while he gripped your waist like his life depended on it.

But then, just as rapidly you had begun to kiss him, you pushed him away. His lungs felt tight when he noticed the affliction and confusion on your face. He wished he could make it go away. But he had caused it, so now his presence only made things worse.

“No- no, I change my mind. This is fucking stupid,” you said. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Y/N,” he said in a gentle tone. Somehow, it seemed that his careful voice hurt you most of all.

“I think we should stop. All of this,” you said. He was beginning to shake his head in disbelief, but you cut him off. “We said there wouldn’t be jealousy, but there obviously is. We should have stopped long ago.”

“But what about starting the game again, from the beginning?” he asked, too afraid of what you would say to even look at you. If you were going to rip out his heart you should have done so quickly, when he wasn’t paying too close attention.

“The game’s over. This is going over both of our heads,” you said. “I- I’m going to go home now.”

So this was heartbreak. H/N had never considered that it could be meant so literally. But he could swear that the muscle inside his chest was convulsing and shriveling as if you had stolen the blood that kept him alive right from his arteries. The pain was sharp like a thousand cuts had been inflicted on his skin, and he struggled for words like your words had taken every of his most elemental abilities.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No,” you said. “You’re drunk. You’re the one who could need someone to walk you home. And I don’t want you around me right now. Get home safely.”

That was it. No hug. No last, longing look. Just your words stabbing like knives and your ethereal beauty as you turned on your heel and walked from the room, leaving him behind, bleeding out by himself. What had he done?

[bratkook]

like you used to. jjk

“So kill me like you used to...”

part two.

pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. angst, mentions of smut, toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, hints at infidelity, drunken mistakes, they’re both very toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, brief mentions of smut word count. 2.9k note. this is just a lump of angst that my mind conjured at 1am last night, i just love angst and messy relationships that are destined to fail 😌(its not edited so if u see a typo no u dont)

It always started with a phone call. 

Whether it was from you or him always changed. Sometimes he’d get the call at two in the morning, vision blurry as he brought the phone to his face and saw your name illuminated on the screen, that old goofy selfie you had together still set as your contact photo. He’d hesitate for a moment just to keep you on your toes before pressing accept, already getting up and putting pants on because he knew just what you were calling for. 

Tonight was your turn to be on the receiving end, laying in bed comfortably as you scrolled through random posts to try to help you sleep, the flash of his face fills your phone, it’s a random close up photo of his eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled up in a smile. Even though his name is changed in your contacts, no longer having the cute bunny emoji tacked to the end, you know you’ll still pick up in a heartbeat. And you do. 

The second you press accept you’re met with the familiar sound of his voice, slurred and thick as he speaks so jumbled up you would barely be able to understand him if you didn’t already know what he was saying. It was the same things he always said whenever he got like this, proclamations of love that only cut up your freshly scabbed over wounds, salt rubbing into them when he cries about how he misses you, promises to change. 

They get cut off when the phone is yanked away from his grasp, the second familiar voice belonging to his buddy Yugyeom now speaking into the receiver. “You gotta pick him up Y/N.”

The annoyance is evident in his voice, the babbling of Jungkook still heard in the background along with the dull beat of whatever place they were outside of. 

“He’s not my responsibility Yugyeom.”

He simply sighs into the phone, staring at his mess of a friend before rubbing his jaw, sore and aching from where he had just been socked after attempting to force him into an uber. “Yeah well he won’t let anyone else take him home, he’s drunk as fuck. I’ll send you the location.”

Not waiting for a response he hangs up and sends you a pin of where they’re at, thrusting the phone back into his friend’s hands before getting into that uber and leaving Jungkook alone while he whines against the dirty bar wall, crouching down onto the filthy sidewalk as the car drove off. 

Yugyeom knew you would come to his rescue like you always did, never once saying no and letting Jungkook fend for himself because on the rare occasions where you’d call him drunk and crying he’d do the same. 

Getting into the car still dressed in your pajamas, shoes thrown on without being laced up, hair still messy, it felt like routine now from how often it happened. Jungkook called you sober, text you while in a sane state of mind, but without fail at least once a month he’d get absolutely shit faced and call you, leaving you what he thought were heartfelt voicemails if by some chance you didn’t answer. 

It was the same bar every time, a bar you used to frequent with him, knowing the location and all the small side streets to get you there without needing directions. Doing this felt like such a normal part of your life it almost made you forget that you and Jungkook weren’t together anymore. It’s been a year since you split and you still find yourself thinking if things could be different. 

Would it have been best if you never confessed to each other, never admitted to the small inkling of a crush before it was able to fully blossom? It was hard not to wonder how different life would be now if you had walked away the first time things went south, if he had walked away after the first argument. 

Whenever he called you, pulled you in with those drunken promises it was easy to convince yourself that your relationship was perfect, that it was worth all of the struggles. Your brain morphed each fight, each time you cried alone, twisted it around and molded it to make it easier to consume, easier to believe you were meant to be. 

You thought you were soulmates, and maybe you were, two people destined to be together, meeting at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances. What was meant to be perfect puzzle pieces connected had slowly turned into jagged edges that no longer clicked regardless of how hard you tried to jam them together, foolishly thinking you could spill your love into the gaps to mend the spaces, making the pieces whole once more. 

Love was never enough. 

Love made you stupid, made you blind and gullible, smiling through lies to avoid arguments, going to bed angry until he was hovering over you, coaxing you into forgiveness with soft kisses and gentle touches. It always went this way, regardless of who’s fault it was without fail he’d end up slot between your legs, the only time the puzzle pieces connected perfectly, allowing him to fuck you as if he’d never see you again. Murmurs of love and adoration were passed between panting breaths, sloppy kisses, shared moans to mask the empty promises you made every time.

Staying away from each other was a hard habit to kick, the two of you stuck on an endless game of seesaw, neither of you having the guts to get off and move on. All it took was a simple drunk phone call for you to go his way, the slur of his voice as he cries into the receiver about how much he loved you, missed you, needed you next to him, wanted to try again. It reeled you in so easily, winding you up until you were hauling your sloppy ex boyfriend off the dirty floor and into your small car. 

He remembers none of this, he never did, not fully anyways. Small tidbits of words he said flash in his mind as he comes to, drool on his cheek and neck sore from the unfortunate position he had slept in, groggy and unaware of his surroundings. 

He knew your apartment too well, recognized the green wall he had helped you paint, now holding endless pictures of you and your friends. None of Jungkook anymore. 

All of those photos were gone now, not burned or shredded in some ritual to get over him, simply tucked into a box and shoved so far into your closet you hoped you would forget it. You never did of course, the way the box laid dust free made it clear how often you pulled it out and sorted through the photos whenever you had too much wine, whenever you had off days where you just felt so alone and wished you could go back to the times you had convinced yourself were better. They weren’t, you knew they weren’t once you sobered up and balanced out your emotions.

Jungkook doesn’t feel bothered that not a trace of him remained visible in your home, he knew his presence lingered in the cracks, buried so deep in the crevices of your mind he knew you would always think of him. 

He groans softly as his eyes roam the interior of your home, the throbbing in his temples making him stop and shut his lids, not needing to analyze the place he was at less than two weeks ago when you had called him over. Jungkook briefly wonders if he should sneak his way out, not used to waking up on the couch instead of in your bed right beside you, maybe he had said something last night that crossed the line and landed him on the couch as a punishment. 

As you finally emerge from your room his plan of escape is put to a stop, his eyes gravitating towards your bedroom door, seeing the way you cautiously step out. Having heard Jungkook wake up since you had already been awake for the past hour, your body not allowing you to sleep while knowing he was in the other room, it took a few minutes of courage before you were able to face him. 

Spotting him on your couch shows how much he doesn’t belong, the pinned leather jacket he wore looking so harsh against the light coloring of your furniture, his dark disheveled hair contrasting with the tidy way you organized your apartment. He senses it, the skin crawling sensation that spreads the longer you stare at him, how he felt so out of place somewhere he used to call home at one point. 

“Thank you for picking me up.” He chooses to break the silence, voice raspy, his internal self screaming at him for always doing this. His eyes are sincere, genuinely meaning it, knowing just how messy he got when he had too much to drink, how his friends could never handle him when he crossed the line and began to call for you. 

Like always his words were routine so he expects it when you huff and say, “You need better friends Jungkook.”

“I know.” Because he did, he knew his friends enabled him, riled him up and once he became too much they pushed him onto you, knowing Jungkook’s grip on you was still too strong for you to ever say no. 

“What if I hadn’t picked you up? Would they have left you on the side of the bar to fend for yourself?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, from past experiences he knows very well they would have. His friends had dealt with Jungkook crying over you far too much, their patience fully stamped out, no longer able to tolerate him when he became like this. 

Not even realizing when he begins to smile as he thought of the nights you didn’t pick up, how he had ended up in the most random locations because he refused to go home to a place you weren’t, he snaps out of it when you scoff. “It’s not funny Jungkook, you could have gotten hurt or something.”

There it was, the reason you were upset. Not because he had called you and spewed the same bullshit he always did, no that you could tolerate. You were upset, and worried, that you’d get a following call from someone stating he had injured himself while calling for you. 

“I know.”

You pause to breathe, his short responses not irking you like it should, arms crossed over your chest as you observe your ex boyfriend still sitting on the couch, looking like a scolded child. 

“You can’t call me anymore Jungkook.” How you have the nerve to say that to him is funny, acting as if ten days ago you weren’t the one doing this to him, telling him you missed him, securing your anchor around his foot and dragging him back under with you. 

This is the checklist you needed to go down, a formality of the morning after so he doesn’t mind it. Instead he frowns at the way you continue to say his name, the way it rolls off your tongue makes him wince, missing the way you’d call him Kookie, playful pet names like Bunny, something he swore he hated but secretly loved. Jungkook wished he could hear you say it again, humor you with that damned bunny eared headband he’d wear to hear you laugh, squeal as he posed and dance for whatever silly video you recorded as you shouted out the ridiculous nickname. 

The last time he heard those words spill out of your mouth had been too long ago. 

“I’m sorry.” he admits, he knew he had to stop, couldn’t continue to hold onto the past, knowing how wrong you were for each other but he wasn’t the only one. Those were the same words you told him ten days ago, apologizing with guilty eyes for asking him to come over when you were lonely, needing a familiar body to occupy the space next to you, wanting his hands to soothe you, make you feel whole again just for a night. 

Once the sun came up it was back to normal, the two of you having the repeat conversation you had every time, the exact one you were having now. A formality. Nothing more, just mindless words that you would both agree to just to move along, to make you both feel better, more secure with yourself until the next time the phone rang. 

Your heart twists in your chest as you look at him, the same toxic love you had for him brewing in your heart, spilling over and burning you but you ignore the pain, convince yourself you don’t feel it as you breathe in. That same rope latches around Jungkook’s ankle as you avert your eyes for a brief second before looking back at him with a small sigh. “Do you want breakfast? I know how you get when you have a hangover.”

He smiles for the first time, charming as always, looking up at you through the subtle waves in his hair. “I probably shouldn’t.”

You know this. He definitely shouldn’t because breakfast will turn into words exchanged, civil at first, flirty the next, a coin flipped to decide if a petty argument would begin or if you’d reminisce about the good times. Regardless of the outcome, what always followed ended with you moaning out his name as he rocked into you, those same empty promises spilling through his lips that you swallowed with a kiss. 

A brief moment of bliss, a small dose of the past that only serves to hurt you further but you crave it, loving the small rush that came with arguing, the roughness of his hands as he pushed you around before sliding home, burying his face into your neck as he broke you down all over again. 

Normally you’d try to convince him further, but as your mouth opens to protest you get flashes of the night before, how you had carried Jungkook up your flight of stairs, hearing him ramble about nonsense so slurred together you paid it no mind. You would have had him sleep in your bed beside you like you always did but when you fish his phone out and begin to slide his jacket off it buzzes to life. 

Always being nosey you type in his password, smiling when you realize it was still your old anniversary but when you unlock it and see a flood of messages from a girl named Natalie, calling him babe, asking where he was, the smile falls from your face as you start to snoop. 

It doesn’t take much scrolling through their thread of messages to easily discover she was his girlfriend, blissfully unaware that he was shit faced and calling you, confessing to his love for you while she laid at home and wondered if he was having fun with his friends. She reminded you of yourself, of the way you used to be with him and it left a sour feeling on your tongue. 

“Yeah you probably shouldn’t.” 

He stands up now, following you slowly as you approach the door, heavy boots thumping on the hardwood as he reluctantly steps closer to the exit. He doesn’t want to leave, wants you to try to convince him to stay, not knowing that you knew the dirty secret he was hiding buried in his phone. 

You don’t decide to tell him you know, it was pointless. That was just how Jungkook was wired, so much love to give he had to spread it out, give everyone a fair share of it, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being selfish. It was naive to believe it, to think all the love he held was strictly for you, it was why he was able to pull the hood over your eyes so easily. 

Even when you pull the door open and give him a tightlipped smile he knows you’ll still call him, forget all about Natalie when you’re lonely once more. So when you look him in the eyes and sigh, “Goodbye Jungkook.” He knows it’s not for long, maybe a week or so, maybe less. 

He simply smiles, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he shuffles out, turning to face you as he steps backwards. “See you later Y/N.” And his words sting in a way he doesn’t mean, knowing just how right he was. 

Jungkook would never mind how heavy the anchor you hooked on his ankle was because he knew you would forever be a sucker for him. 

As you shut the door behind you it feels like a small weight starts to hang from your shoulders, the same tug starting from your chest, guiding you into your room until you’re pulling out the cursed box and sorting through those damned photos. With stinging eyes you flip through them for a moment, focusing on all the laughs captured on film, blurry vision moving to your phone beside you, hands already itching to call him again. 

It’s as if he knows, still inside your building, lingering in the lobby to give you a moment and it doesn’t take long. Once his phone starts to vibrate he smiles, staring at the photo of you as you call him like clockwork. With a clear of his throat he answers the phone, barely saying hello before he hears a small sniffle through the speaker. 

“I miss you Kookie.” 

Jungkook lets his eyes shut as he presses the elevator button, loving the feeling of being needed by you, already knowing to head back up because this was routine. 

“I know you do baby, I’ll be right up.”

And just like that you’re once again desperately trying to make those stupid puzzle pieces fit together, hoping that maybe this time love would be enough.

[pure-kirarin]

Slow & Steady [P2] [Sabo x f!reader] (+18)

Genre : Romance - Smut - Bestfriends to lovers General warnings : Alcohol consumption - Dark themes - Swearing - S m u t - possessiveness - Mention of ex-relationships - jealousy

A/N : This is really different from my usual writing style but I am experimenting. Please tell me your thoughts and don’t hesitate to ask to be added to the tag list :) AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/31877203?view_full_work=true

In the last chapter --  «-Enough playing now, you're going to sleep. -B-but ! This wasn't what I asked for....You're really a coward after all...You virgin... » He carried you to his room, putting you on the bed and sitting next to you. «-I'd love to prove you wrong. However, it would be better if you were in a state where you'd be able to recall how good I am. If you want me to fuck you this badly then maybe ask me when you're sober.

Part I - Part II

Part II  -Yeah yeah...Pff..You're no fun Sabo. Things were finally getting interesting ! »

He smiled seeing that you were now calmer. You started to yawn and bury your face in his pillow. He loved to see you getting so comfortable in his room. He really needed a cold shower after your little show.  -Goodnight (Y/N). I'll sleep on the couch. You can get comfortable. -Are you crazyy ? You gonna leave me alone like this ? Let's sleep together~ -Come on (Y/N), you're a big girl. You could sleep alone for one night, would you ? Translation : I don't want to spend the whole night with a semi. And you're dangerously flirty, and I have wanted you for years and now I have to abstain.

-Pleaaaase. You said looking at him with puppy eyes. He rolled his eyes placing a hand in his hair. God.damn.it.

You won again. Like every time. * * *  You opened your eyes hardly next day, feeling something hard against your thigh. You looked at the ceiling

Oh...I am not in my room...Where the fuck am I ?

you turn around only to discover the embodiment of Adonis to your side. A light beam was lighting up Sabo's face. He looked like an angel as his beauty couldn't be that of a human.

Was he always this handsome ?

You didn't know, in fact, you have never had the occasion to wake up in his bed. Wait, in his bed ? This realization came slowly as your head was still foggy from yesterday's consumption.

You looked down, the thing that was pressing against your leg was indeed :

his thing.

You frowned, blushed, pulled away, put a hand on your lips repressing an internal scream, all of this in around three seconds. You then tried to calm down, telling yourself that it was very normal for a man to experience this kind of morning unconviniences, and that Sabo was a man, after all. Even if  you have always seen him as a bestfriend, he was still a man that is capable of physical attraction.

Now that this internal monologue was done with, you felt a bit calmer, but that didn't answer your question. You got out of bed, trying to recall what happened after going in the bar. And it came back. All of it. Without any mercy for your feelings.

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Your only wish was to disappear which meant : calling Nami. You headed out of the house, not even having the courage to face your bestfriend.

« Namiiiii -Uh ? What's the matter ? -I fucked up. I fucked up really bad. -Oh yeah ? Tell me about it. -Wait, why do you seem excited ? -O-oh I'm not excited. Come on tell me. What else could you have possibly done ? -I asked Sabo to fuck me. -Wait what ? You could hear Vivi ask Nami about what happened and her answering « She asked Sabo to fuck her ». -Nami ! Don't go on telling everyone about this. I'm on my way. -For starters, Vivi isn't « everyone », she's my girlfriend. And I'm here waiting for you to tell me what happened. -Wait, I'll come at your place. This can't be discussed over the phone. »

You hung up on her. Ten minutes later, you were at her place. Extremely confused. Nami was painting her nails bright red on the bed while Vivi was sitting comfortably on a chair. You let your whole body weight fall on a lounge pug, tourmented.  «-So tell me how you and Sabo ended up fucking. She emphasized the last word in a way that made you almost choke on air.  -We didn't actually. Nami and Vivi both sighed in a synchronized « Ah » of disappointment. -So hmm...I don't remember clearly. I was really drunk-- well that you're aware of and...And Sabo didn't want to leave me alone so we went to his place. Ace was at Thatch's so we were alone. We hugged and he comforted me. Then I started teasing him, and I don't know what I was thinking, but I kissed him, and then I asked him to fuck me. -Wow that escalated quickly. Said Nami as she continued painting her nails.

-Well, I was heartbroken, I needed something, someone, and he was there, and you know Sabo, he's a good guy ! I don't know what's worse, the fact that I asked him to fuck me or the fact that he said no.

-Oh god I'm so so sorry

- Nami please don't make things worse for me.

-No offense, but you're so dense. Sabo has always been into you. Do you want him, or do you not ? I know that going right into a relationship after a breakup is a bad idea. But honestly it's worth giving it a shot. He's a really good guy. Try dating someone nice for once.

-I don't know, he has something unsettling about him. Like « almost too good to be true » you know ? Added Vivi.

-Ohhh~ I see. Honestly, I always thought that he was a bit prude and hella vanilla. I mean, yes, he's my best friend. But he has never talked about girls to me or about sexual stuff. So I just assumed that. I never thought that he'd be packin' like that. You said as you popped a lollipop in your mouth.

-Ah ? Was it really that impressive ? asked Nami, genuinely curious.

-Yeah. On a scale from 0 to doflamingo he's a solid eight point seventy five. (*)

-Oh gosh. I understand why you're so worked up now.

-That's really...precise. Added Vivi, a bit horrified.

(*) [ The dear reader might need this clarification ; Doflamingo was Law's uncle, he sometimes came to pick him up after uni with his luxurious lamborghini. He wore extremely tight pants that left little to the imagination. And he was most known among your clique for having a nine incher. It was a running joke wether to know if Law got his uncle's genes. Needless to say that this joke wasn't to Law's taste. Now back to our adorable Y/N. ]

-So. I really don't know what to do. I am still heartbroken. -And horny. Added the ginger. -Yeah, that too. I'm afraid of ruining our friendship. -Listen dear, said Nami as she was closing the nail polish bottle, if you're not going for it, someone else would. And trust me, that girl Koala is upping her game. She's going to steal him right in front of your eyes, just like this - and she snapped her fingers. -Oh, and then, you can forget about being « best friends ». Said Vivi adding fuel to the fire. -Yeah, once he's gonna start dating, he won't have too much time for you-- and then, that Koala girl, my god, she seems extremely possessive ! -No way, your voice was detached, trying to act is if you weren't worried, Sabo has never dated any girl before.- -Yes but he seems to get along with that girl. And to be honest, she's kinda cute.

-Nami ! Vivi pinched her forearm playfully, pretending to be jealous.

-That hurt ! And don't be jealous, you know that you're my only one~

-Hmm...I prefer that. Vivi laughed. You started caughing reclaiming for their attention.

-Attention please ! We're discussing my dick-appointment here.

-Jesus you're really annoying, (Y/N), just go for it already.

-How much did he pay you to tell me this huh ?

-What ? He didn't pay me ! You're just always getting your heart broken. I'm just trying to be a good friend.

-Say that you are trying to get rid of her~ Jokes Vivi.

-Vivi, don't expose me like this- Nami plays along while laughing.

-I hate you girls ! You say as you throw a pillow on Nami. The ginger starts complaining that you messed her Nail polish, and the whole scene metamorphosed into a pillow fight.

* * *

You spent the whole day with the girls, chit-chatting about boys and girls and playing stupid games. You felt way more comfortable now, less ashamed. However, you were surprised because you didn't get a message from your bestfriend. You wondered wether he was mad at you, it wasn't in his habits.

You decided to message Ace [click for conversation] [ (Y/N) : Heyy amigo is Sabo ok ? Did he tell u smth abt yesterday ? Ace : Ouch, your hurting my feelings, </3 Only talking to me to ask about my brother~ Yea hes okay why tho ? (Y/N) : Ooo kay. He's home ? Ace : He is. Why don't u directly text him ? (Y/N) : Don't tell him I asked. Btw I didn't forget about those 10 bucks you « borrowed » from me. Give it back.] He didn't answer. You sighed and decided to go see Sabo to settle things down. It was the first time that you were embarrassed to see your best friend. You dressed up in a black skirt and t shirt. You didn't usually pay attention to your looks when you went to hang out at Sabo's, but you were really stressed out and what the girls have said about Koala made you scared of losing him. After all, you had some abandonment issues. You had to settle this down once and forever. You arrived at the guy's place, it was an apartment not so far from your own student flat. You knocked on the door and Ace opened : -Ohhh, (Y/N), he whistles, lookin' like a girl today huh ? -What are you implying you dumbass ? Where's Sabo ? -He's in his room with Koala.- -Wait what ? Koala ? What is she doing here ? Ace raised an eyebrow then said amused ; -I don't know, go ask him yourself. -You're useless as usual. -Always so sweet. You on your period or something ? -I didn't forget about my twenty bucks by the way. -I said I'm goin' to pay you back alright ? Now go talk to Sabo. You and Ace were always teasing each other in a brotherly way, but in reality, he really cared for you, it was just your usual way of communication. But it was true that knowing that Koala was in Sabo's room put you in a bad mood. You knocked on the door with a knot in your stomach. Did they start dating ? Was Sabo interested in her ? These ideas were torturing you. But why did you care anyways ? It was none of your business. He could date whoever he wants. You opened the door but there was only Sabo relaxing on his bed, still fully clothed. « - Sabo ?-Oh, (Y/N), what brings you here ? -Why ? Do I need a reason to see my best friend ? He sits on bed looking at you. He doesn't fail to notice your cute outfit, it was different from your usual sweatpants and hoodies, the way it complemented your figure was almost too much for him. Just that sight was driving him insane, but his face didn't betray his emotions, like always, he acted friendly, not an ounce of lust in his dark ebony eyes. You took place next to him. He smelled good, you thought. The same fresh minty smell as last time. Did he always smell this good ? -(Y/N) ?Huh ? Is everything okay ? His voice seemed concerned.He cared for you. And you had those stupid immature and posessive thoughts. Get a grip of yourself, (Y/N), you thought. -Oh yea-- wasn't Koala here ? Ace told me you were with her.

You tried so hard to act like you didn't care, but he knew you like the back of his hand. But still, he played along. -Hmm..Yes. She just left. I was going out as well. He says with a sweet smile, looking at his watch. You couldn't help but make a disappointed face. -But Sabo I wanted to - I'm really sorry (Y/N), let's talk later. He ruffles your hair and you close your eyes as he does so. You felt stressed out. What happened exactly ? You felt intimidated in his presence for the first time. You wanted him to stay and talk this out. It was a bit awkward for you now. You never thought too much. As he was going out of the room you held the fabric of his coat tight in your hand ; -Sabo- -Hum ? Need me to drop you somewhere ? -N-no. You let his sleeve go, realizing what you have just done, I'll stay a bit then go back home. Don't worry about me. -Alright then. See you later ? -Yeah. See ya. ]

You looked at Sabo go away and you followed him shortly after. Meanwhile Ace was sitting on the couch and watching some movies. You went back home and was quite tormented. It wasn't the right time to worry as you had your assignments and studies to deal with. On one hand, you didn't even have the time to think of your ex boyfriend and his cheating but on the other, you felt like you were let down by Sabo. But why ? He didn't do anything. He just found himself a new friend and a potential new girlfriend.

He didn't even talk about her, but why where you so upset by him meeting her ? After all, he had the right to date just like you always did.

A few days have passed and you didn't get the chance to talk to Sabo. Your exams were getting closer and closer and you didn't feel ready.

Usually, Sabo would help you with your assignments but you were too scared to ask. You realized how much you relied on him and how he has been always there for you.

Who were you exactly to him ?

Maybe you took him for granted.

As you were on your bed looking at the ceiling and trying to collect every drop of motivation in your system to study, you heard your phone ring. It was Sabo's ringtone ! ----- Tag list : @vemuabhi @chloe-abbacchio @mwls-garden @soanywaysistartedsimping If you wanna get tagged just ask for it :)

[nikrangdan]

roommate!heeseung pt. 1

pairing: roommate!heeseung x female reader

genre: mini fic(?), fluff, comedy, tiny angst(one little sad part)

warnings: cursing!!! 

word count: 4.3k

description: i guess you just didnt realize you were in love with your roommate...... who has a girlfriend

————

“ow!”

you had just hit heeseung over the head after he said he would burn all of your plushies

your Precious. Plushies

hell no you’ve been collecting these since you were 11 no way in hell heeseung would threaten ur babies

you rolled your eyes and started to walk to the kitchen to get a snack

stupid heeseung

hes always saying stupid shit🙄

before you walked out though you noticed the look on his face

like he was contemplating something

“y/n... can you do me a favor?” he nervously uttered out before you walked out his door

“....what kind..?” you furrowed your brows

why was he being so cryptic

“uhh i need you to get flowers and chocolates for me from stacys....”

STACYS?????????

stacys was this fancy store 45 MINUTES AWAY..

“ur fucking serious?” you deadpanned

this was something new

in all your 8 months of living with him he had never asked you of a favor this big

for context.., you had moved to this city apartment for college 8 months ago but you couldn’t afford it without a roommate

but luckily you overheard a certain boy praying for an apartment while you were on campus

and you guessed it!!! it was heeseung

you two clicked easily and you were very thankful he was your roommate

after 4 months of living together he told you he got a girlfriend

you didnt really know about his campus life since you didnt have classes together and you never saw him walking around

you dont know why you were surprised when he told you... i mean have u seem Him.....

but nonetheless

u were like “Omg heeseung!!! thats great<3” like the supportive friend u were

yeah and that was that

you didnt meet the girl until another month later

Now that..... that was an experience......

FLASHBACK WHOOSH

*knock knock knock*

who tha hell was knocking at 7 in the morning.........

you staggered your way over to the front door with your matching hello kitty pajamas

and u open the door to see a blonde Lady who looks around your age

Why did u forget to look thru the little peephole in the door...... ur probably just tired whatever

anyways ur like

“uhm....”

and shes like

“? who are you.?”

and ur like

??!!?[\^€]€\¥,_[+{*}*

“i live here....”

and shes like

“?...? oh sorry i thought my boyfriend lived here..”

and ur both just standing there like ;-;

shes all dressed up and u look like a childs room threw up on u

And thats when it hit u

“OH”

“are you heeseungs girlfriend?!!???” your hand raises up to point at her unconsciously

“ yes.. i am” she looked so lost it was so funny

“oh then you have the right place im sorry! hes my roommate” you scurry back into the apartment, gesturing for her to come in and close the door behind her

“what? he didnt tell me had a roommate..”

poor girl 😭😭😭

you quite literally pounce into heeseungs room and smack him while shes still standing outside awkwardly in the living room

“fucking idiot” smack to the face

“wake up” smack to the chest

“heeseung i swear to god” you shake his head

“are you fucking dead???? wake up!!!!” you pinch his ears really hard

that woke him up

“Ow ow ow ow OWWW y/n what the hell???” his eyes are forced open but theyre squinted due to the sunlight

“your girlfriend is here” you whisper-yell at him

“what???” he sat up so quickly you almost laughed

you were 90% sure she heard everything

oh well

his problem

he just stares into space for a second before his eyes go wide

ur just sitting on his bed waiting for him to do something like Uhhh

“shit i planned a date today oh my god” he jumped up from his bed and hastily told you to “stay put” before throwing on a hoodie, walking to see his girlfriend, and slamming his bedroom door leaving u sat on his bed

yes u were nosy Muahahahahah

so u pressed ur ear against the door to listen to their conversation

“sora, im so sorry i slept in late i promise ill make it up to you please baby dont be mad”

you had to stifle your laughter with your hand

God this was gold

“heeseung why didnt you tell me you lived with a girl.”

oooooooh hes in trouble you laugh to yourself

“ah about that.. im sorry i didnt tell you.. dont worry though, you know i only like you! shes just my roommate”

ouch

Why did that hurt 😪

“whatever heeseung.. ill call you later” and then you heard the door slam

already???? you were ready to get ur popcorn :///

you didnt even notice it had been a while before the door opened with you still leaning on it

boom u fell on the floor

“ow”

“shut up” he said before jumping face down on his bed

you stand up to lean against his door again, staring pitifully at the boy

“you okay?” you cross your arms

“mmm” he mumbles into his pillow

“you know i think i deserve a treat for being woken up at 7am on a sunday by your little girlfriend”

“little? shes taller than you” he turned around to lay on his back and chuckle

“oh so you’re making jokes right now when your girlfriend might break up with you?” you glare at him

“shes not gonna break up with me over something this little” he rolls his eyes and grabs his phone from his nightstand

“you know you’re a little piece of shit heeseung!” you yell out to him after you walked out of his room

“how?!” he yelled back

“treat your girlfriend better!”

he kept his mouth shut after that

yeah you two didnt talk for the rest of the day because he stayed in his room sulking or whatever

fast forward to now

Right after he asked u to get him the chocolates and flowers

“please y/n, sora is gonna be here in 2 hours and i need to get everything ready and i dont have enough time to do everything” he begged

WITH THOSE CUTE LITTLE PUPPY DOG EYES OF HIS GOD

“do you really need them from stacys though???” you whined

he just huffed and glared at you “yes! sora only likes them from there.”

“nuh uh mister dont give me that look” you narrow your eyes at him

he immediately stops his glare and tries to look neutral

it almost made you laugh

you just looked at him for a few seconds before giving up

“fine. but what am i getting in return?”

his eyes lit up and traveled up as he was in thought

“hmmm ill buy you food whenever you want for a month”

Wow

“woah thats more than i bargained for but deal!” he didnt realize that until after you shook his hand, very enthusiastically might i add

Lol

so now you were on your way home with the MASSIVE bouquet of roses and beautifully wrapped chocolates sitting nice and snug in the passenger seat of your car

these two things costed $115

oh well its heeseungs money not yours

you found it amusing because heeseung was nowhere near rich so where was he finding this money to blow

over an hour later and ur finally back home

u open the door

u struggled very much btw

almost dropped everything haha

but woah......

your eyes widened and your mouth fell open

“heeseung? you didn’t tell me you two were having the date here..”

as soon as you walked in you smelled a pretty scent and the lighting was dim

it was beautiful

there were candles lit on every surface

rose petals were scattered messily everywhere

the two seater dining table was topped with elegant decor

there was quiet jazz music playing from his speaker

the familiar aroma of your favorite food hit you

standing there in your apartment didnt feel real

it felt like you were in a dream

you couldnt believe your apartment could turn into room from a fairytale

you were never one to be into disney princesses and fantasies

but for the first time ever you almost wished for a prince charming yourself

you almost got lost in a trance

and then....

the boy himself walked out

donned in an all black suit with a sliver of the white undershirt peeking underneath and the white tie

his bangs were covering his forehead and you noticed he styled them to be wavy

he had his earrings in and rings were present on 3 of his fingers

he looked absolutely dazzling

you dont know how or why.. but your heart began to race

why did this feel like it was for you...?

you wanted to be his disney princess

staring at him wistfully, it felt like time had stopped

“oh thanks y/n, i almost thought you ditched me” he chuckled quickly

he was frantic and out of breath as he snatched the things out of your hand

“right!” he began as he sped around the room setting everything up

“im sorry but i forgot to ask if you could leave for today. im such an idiot, im sorry y/n.. you can stay at a friends house or something for the night?” he didnt even look at you as he perfected the chocolates on the counter and the plates on the table

you couldnt help but notice your heart clench and your stomach twist at his words

you were still glued to your spot infront of the door

“o-oh! yeah, okay thats fine ill get my stuff now” you scurry to your room

you speedily threw some clothes and necessities in a bag before walking back to him

“hey..”

he didnt look at you

“helloooo”

“heeseung” you poke him

he finally turned to you

“sorry what?” he gazed down at you with big eyes

“its okay.. just wanted to let you know im leaving now” you give him a small smile

“oh right! thank you y/n again” he grinned

his pretty smile

“you look great by the way... have fun” you manage to say before slipping out the door

you didnt let him reply back because if you stayed in there a second longer you think you would’ve fallen in love with him

where did these feelings come from...?

you smack yourself on your forehead as youre walking down the steps to your car

ur probably just feeling like this because no man has ever done anything like that for u

and seeing it in real life made u want a bf 😟😟

yeah... thats it

so now ur at sunoos house

a close friend from your finance class

he lives in his parents house but theyre never home so he basically owns the place and doesn’t have to pay for it

Yeah u kinda envy the boy

but you love him because hes great

“y/n ..do you like him????” sunoo gasps

you guys are watching tangled for the 10th time and you were explaining what happened back at your apartment

“what? where did you get that from?” you snort, your eyes still focused on the movie

you could literally feel his eyes piercing into your soul with that stare

“the way you were telling me that story.... you sounded a bit jealous if i do say so myself..” he raises his eyebrow and leans back into the couch

“i do not like heeseung, sunoo” your eyes roll and you turn to look at him finally

he has a little smirk as he looks at u suspiciously

“hmmm okay, i get it” he raises his arms in defense and surrenders “you don’t wanna talk about it”

you scoff and laugh at his actions “you’re so annoying”

so ..*time skip* lol

you slept at sunoos for the night

it wasnt anything new bc u used to stay at his alot while u were in the process of moving into your apartment

one of his guest rooms is practically urs bc u have some decorations and spare clothes there :P

when you woke up that sunday morning you realized you forgot to set an alarm

so now its like 11am

well its not like you needed to be home so you shrugged it off

“morning” u said to sunoo when u saw him sitting on the couch watching wreck it ralph

boy loves his movies

“when are you going home?”

“wow rude.... not even a good morning back??” you found him amusing

“sorry, good morning. when are you going home” he turned his head to look at you

it made you laugh

Sunoo is so funny u love him

“do u wanna get rid of me that bad??? i hate you”

“ni-ki and jungwon are coming over today and i dont want you smothering them like you always do” he playfully glares at you

NI-KI AND JUNGWON???!!!??!!!!!!

“MY BABIES????” you exclaim and jump on the couch next to sunoo

“yes” he exasperatingly says

“now leave before they get here”

“WHAT?? no im staying because i wanna see them”

“NO!!!! now get out of my house y/n”

“why not?!!???! sunoo please i bet they miss me so much”

“y/n please.. they do NOT miss you”

“they literally do i always make them cookies and theyre like y/n ur so cool we love you”

“u mustve been hallucinating....”

“sunoo please please please i dont wanna go home” u tried to muster up the cutest puppy dog eyes ever

he looked at your face for a moment

“no u look ugly”

“YOU’RE SO ANNOYING” you push him

“theyre coming back tomorrow you can come then! today is boys night”

“boys night?” you snort “what the fuck are u kids gonna do that i cant be around for?”

“SHUT UP Y/N get out of my house!” he just starts to drag you out of his house himself

“ow oW OKAY fine ill leave... have fun doing.. whatever you’re gonna do” you grab your bag and start to head for the door

sunoo slams the door in ur face after he says “bye dont come back please” 😭😭😭

“asshole!” u yell to him thru the door

you just huff and stand on his porch for a second

you wonder if heeseung still has his girlfriend over and decide to text him

y/n🦧: hi can i come back home

welp

now ur sitting on sunoos porch waiting for a reply

10  minutes pass while ur scrolling on your phone and still no reply

you look up when you hear the front door open

“why are you still here?” sunoo frowns at you

“heeseung didnt answer my text and i dont wanna go back if his girlfriend is still there” you reply

“go home y/n plz.... i lied jungwon and ni-ki arent coming over.. my grandparents are” he tries to shoo you away

“why would you lie about that” you laugh

“theyre really mean! but you can come back tomorrow because the boys are actually gonna be here.. now go because my grumpy grandparents are gonna be here in like 5 minutes” he guides your shoulders down his porch

“ugh.. if his girlfriend is still there its your fault” you pout

“wha- how is that my- whatever y/n go home!!!”

when you drive off you dramatically wave your hand to him trying to show how desperately you did not wanna go home

sunoo just giggles and runs back inside

you drove home extra slow Lol

and now you were at the door contemplating whether or not you just make a run for it

but u said fuck it because u missed the comforts of ur own room

well u knocked a little before unlocking the door

how embarrassing to be knocking on the door of ur own home 💀

you didnt get an immediate answer so u just stood outside in the apartment hallway....waiting....

after waiting for like 30 seconds (because ur impatient) you knock again

well i tried to be nice you thought

you finally gave up and unlocked the door with your keys, kind of slowly opening the door to peek in

hmmm.... nothing

the sun was emitting some rays of light through one of the windows but none of the lights were on

and why was there food still on the table..?

you were kind of afraid to go see heeseung 

but

you did notice one thing

there wasn’t a pair of shoes u didnt recognize sitting on the rack by the door 

so... is his girlfriend not here or did she bring her shoes to his room lol..

“hello?” you unconfidently called out to nobody in particular

no answer

you slipped your shoes off quietly and tiptoed towards the hallway that included both of your rooms across from eachother

the kitchen and living room looked untouched 

to describe u being confused would be an understatement

you set your bag down on your bed and then made your way to heeseung.. just to check on him

you were genuinely so confused rn

you thought they would be cuddling on the couch or talking in his room or something but it was dead silent throughout the house

“heeseung?” you soft knocked on the door of his bedroom

surely he couldnt still be asleep.. it was noon on a monday and heeseung would normally be up by 10 because he said he would “start being a more productive man” as he said it

you always laughed at him because he used to wake up at like 3pm on days he didnt have class

anyways you didnt get an answer which was slightly concerning because you didnt forget to take note that you saw his car in the parking garage when you arrived

“i’m coming in” you called out to him before twisting the knob and pushing the door open

you realized you might be crossing a line and he’d get upset at you for invading his privacy but you were honestly worried for your friend

at first you didn’t see him

his room was empty, not a single person in sight

that is until you further examined the big lump on his bed

“heeseung? what...” you walked over to the lump that you only knew was him because you could see a bit of his hair peeking out from the top

“um.. am i interrupting something..” you awkwardly said, debating whether or not to go closer

he wasn’t saying anything so you guessed he was sleeping

how odd for him

you wanted to just check real quick and then you’d leave his room

so your feet padded softly against his wooden floor as you made your way over to him

and you bent down a little to kind of tug the huge blanket away from his face

as you got closer you also noticed his girlfriend wasnt here

the first thing you noticed was that he was definitely not asleep

your eyes widened and your hand instinctively went to his face to cup his cheek

“are you okay?! why are you crying?” you quickly asked, your eyebrows were furrowed in worry

in your months living with him you have never seen him show any emotional feelings in front of you and it almost made you panic

his eyes locked onto yours before he looked away from you and closed his eyes

he still hasnt said anything and you really didnt know what to do in this situation

you took your hand off his cheek before sighing

now you’re just sat on the side of his bed just looking at him.. wondering what to do

you were sure he wasn’t sleeping even though his eyes were shut and he wouldnt move

but you sat there for 5 minutes and he didnt seem to mind

“sora broke up with me” 

he finally broke the silence

...

you didnt know what to say

you couldnt ask if he was okay when he obviously wasnt

“do you wanna talk about it? you looked over to heeseung to see him staring at you

“not really” he broke eye contact once again and looked up towards the ceiling

“later i will.. just not now” he breathed out

you nodded at that, understanding his situation

you felt terrible for the boy

his eyes were red and his voice was all nasally like he’d been crying

“i’ll leave you alone now..” you patted his big blanket fluff to lighten the mood and walked out his stuffy room

hours had passed while he was stuck in that room and you didnt know what to do 

it was 7pm already

you spent the day watching tv in the living room 

but it was dinner time and you made ramen (his fav!!!) in hopes that he would come out of there

“heeseung you’ve gotta eat” you knock on his door again

you had told him to eat at 2 earlier but he insisted that he wasnt hungry

you were surprised when he instantly opened the door and your hand was still in midair as you were knocking

if your hand moved an inch you wouldve been knocking on his chest which you found very funny but you didnt think this was the right time for jokes

“hi” you looked up at him

he was wearing his purple beanie with sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt

he definitely looked better than he did this morning which you thanked god for

“hey” he gave u this look :]

“you okay? i made ramen.. can you smell it” you kinda giggled

“yeah, thanks” he tried to send you a small smile which you were thankful for

“okay well come eat because i worked very hard on it” you turned on your heels and went towards the tiny kitchen island with two seats

he followed you and sat next to you as you gave him his bowl and chopsticks

“bon appetit!” you clapped your hands before digging in

you were proud of urself ngl... the ramen was smacking

“thank you y/n” he said softly

you refused to admit it but he was.. So Cute

“no problem, just eat” you grinned

and you two ate in silence for a good 15 minutes

he said he would do the dishes after you were done which was relieving because you wanted to go jump in your bed and watch tiktoks very badly

there was a slight awkwardness in the air too so you wanted to let that cool off too

so now you were cuddled up in our bed with your phone very close, almost too close, to your face

and you could hear the sink running as heeseung washed the dishes

you silently prayed he was feeling better and that he would be over it soon

the sink turned off and you could hear his footsteps coming towards the hallway

what surprised you was that you heard knocks on your bedroom door

“can i come in?” he asked

“yeah its open” you replied

u had to get out of ur blanket cocoon :///

you watched him stride over to sit next you on your bed

he even got under the covers and laid down like dang lmao u getting comfy i guess

“whats up?” you were sitting up while he was laying on your pillows

“so.. she broke up with me last night” he spoke while hugging one of your plushies

oh OHH so this is what this is about

“oh.. are you feeling better now?”

“yeah i think.. we only dated for 4 months but i really liked her....”

“did she say why she did?” you asked

“she said she found someone else. i dont know if you know this but shes a year older than me and she told me she wasnt into younger guys which doesnt even make any sense because her ex was younger than her too and-”

“okay heeseung” you laugh “people are like that, you just gotta deal with it”

“yeah yeah, i know” he sighed “i dont know.. i dont know if im sad i lost her or if im sad over the fact that i dont have a girlfriend anymore”

“was she your first girlfriend?”

“me? y/n” he laughed “ive had plenty before”

“oh” you didnt even wanna ask

“why? have you never had a boyfriend or something?” he joked

“no....” you trailed off, unable to look him in the eye out of embarrassment

you were never even embarrassed about that but for some reason admitting it to heeseung made you shy

“what?! no way” he was actually shocked

“yes way now can we change the topic this is terrible” you roll your eyes and shove a plushie in his face

“awee little y/n” he teased you

“get out” you snickered

“okay okay fine.. but yeah i think i’ll be okay. she broke up with me as soon as she got here so all of my planning was for nothing. i think that was what devastated me the most, i had no one to eat with”

you wanted to yell I LITERALLY EXIST soooo bad

Why is he so stupid....... 

“thats sad...” you said

you wanted to laugh at your reply bc what else could you say

“yeah anyways you dont have to worry about taking care of me while im sulking or whatever im cool now’

“well that was quick.. you were acting like a baby this morning now ur this tuff guy” you tease

“yeah yeah i dont even know why i was acting like that” his cheeks went pink

“im just kidding” you send a small smile his way “you know im always here for you right? dont be afraid to be a little emotional sometimes” you reach over to pat his head

“thanks y/n” he smiles “you’re a really great friend”

ouch

yeah.. friend

[rinstars]

𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 — 𝐬.𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞)

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

genre/trope: angst, unrequited love, forbidden love

warnings: nsfw, profanity, infidelity, mentions of weed/drugs, intoxication

description: you knew you never meant to him as much as he meant to you.. yet deep down, you still hoped his heart also breaks with every single goodbye and the regrets of the past clings to him a lot more than he let you believe.

note: this is a repost of 'the call' where i changed and added a few things to make it fit as a prologue better, so make sure u still read it. i'll do this series at my own pace so please just be patient! i'll open the taglist so just send me an ask if you want to be tagged hehe.

The smell of leather and weed floating in the space surrounding you constricts your breathing, making you gasp for air – even more as he suctions the air out of you through your heated shared kiss, your lungs burning with the need for oxygen. But you ignore it. Running your fingers through his hair and meeting his hunger with kisses equally as rough, you ignore the building pain on your chest.

You rock your hips towards him, feeling his hard crotch rub you through the lace of the panties you bought just a few days ago. Pulling away for a moment only to gasp on his reddening plump lips while he lazily guides your movements on his lap, triggering a flood of pleasure wash over you.

Slender, pale, and long fingers reached over to snatch another blunt, taking a long drag before the very same fingers of the opposite hand takes the back of your neck so he can pull you closer to his lips. He breathes the smoke out of his mouth into yours, connecting your lips once again.

Despite the distinct scent of the drug, you taste a tinge of sweetness on your tongue as his own massages yours. Rocking your hips harder to his forces a moan out of you, making your fingers curl around his lengthy hair. You pull away, muttering a small give me a minute to him. Leaning back on the steering wheel, you watch him while you try to control your ragged breathing.

His hair is long. Long enough that it falls softly all the way to his eyes and cheeks, the ends brushing his really pale skin. With your earlier statement, he just shrugged with the same unchanging look of nonchalance in his eyes—proceeding to take drags out of his blunt. His beautifully shaped eyes now bloodshot and shiny with moisture.

He's almost like a vampire, now that you think about it. So beautiful. Such pale skin but such dark hair. Sharp gaze but soft lips. Intoxicating scent but still so sweet.

The most similar thing between him and vampires, you thought, is the way he sucks all the life out of you. Drying you out and taking all your light.

This man has corrupted you more than you're willing to admit.

You opened your mouth to say something when the blaring ring of his phone makes you jump. His eyes glanced over the source before grabbing it with a sigh and scanning the monitor. You didn't even need to ask who it is. You're very well aware who it is, and why he never hesitated to answer.

When it comes to you, it always takes a lot of rings and missed calls before he picks up, though. You understand. You tell him you do, you always will.

He doesn't pick a call up on the first ring unless it's his girl. Astumu whispered as if he heard you ponder about the caller in your head one night when you were drinking with him in a bar. Loves her a lot. Probably too much.

The alarms rang in your head that night, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. So annoying but at the same time so painful. You didn't know how to turn it off and you wish every single time you could.

"Darling," He whispered with such a loving voice, one you never heard from him when he answers your calls. Your heart ached but you knew better than to confront him about it. Instead you cry in the arms of the twinss—more on Atsumu's, since Osamu takes you through an hour long lecture of why you should have known better.

You know that much, you think.

You shouldn't have let yourself get dragged in this stupid situation, craving a taken man and his touches. Letting him in on your secrets even when he barely lets you get a peak in his.

"I miss you too, my love.. Oh?.. I'll be home soon." He speaks in pauses as he lets her finish speaking first. You close your eyes to prevent the liquid threatening to spill out, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting yourself from his lap to the passenger seat. His eyes widened a millimeter—almost as if he cares what you do, when he noticed you getting off him without having to tell you. You noticed he ended his call with her and you refuse to look back at him. If you do, you are sure of another sleepless night.

Another sleepless night of asking yourself what went wrong and if he ever regretted his decisions— maybe he, too, spend the night wide awake asking himself why he brushed off every single detail of the past like it never existed, why he acts like you're a stranger he met for the very first time when both of you coincidentally takes the seat next to each other on a bar, why he never gave you an explanation of what happened that day.

Cold fingers hook under your chin, slowly turning your head to the left. He leans over the center console, connecting his lips with the soft skin of your neck, making you exhale out at the feeling of him sucking all the reason in you again. He runs his tongue wet on your collarbones, creating a glistening trail.

"I'll see you soon?" He whispered on the crook of your neck, nibbling it a little with his teeth. The bruises he leave on your skin another reminder that everything is real.

You just hum with a nod, cupping his jaw and slowly pulling him away from you with a small smile. One of his bangs fell in the middle of his face—you reached up to brush it away.

So many unspoken words from you. Too many. You wonder if he has anything he's holding back to say too as his eyes linger on you a second longer than usual. Or maybe you're just desperately reading into the lines again, like what Osamu said way too many times.

"Rin, what.. what are we?" Every parting is like this, like a new way of saying goodbye that you both developed. You just needed to be reminded, to wake up from whatever delusions you're starting to have.

"Nothing." He replies as flatly as all the other times before. Not a hint of emotion – no amusement or remorse.

You swallow, letting your hands fall to your sides. On the verge of turning around and reaching the door, his voice echoes once again. "How many times are you gonna ask me this?"

Until you start feeling something.

You thought to yourself. Anger, disgust, love, hatred, adoration, anything. You just want him to feel something. Prove to yourself and everyone else that you're not just a tool to him.

"Sorry. Slipped out of habit." You settle for that response now. No point having a conversation with him about this.

"You don't have to leave right away, I can still drive you home."

Losing all the strength to refuse, you found yourself just agreeing with him. Why the fuck are you even so upset to begin with? You knew what you signed up for. You knew about the girl. You saw him with her in the very same bar a few nights ago. Watched how much attention he gives her, how tightly he holds her.

Of course, you knew about the girl. Your past with her woven in a way no one will be able to deny, and she knows it too, as much as Suna and the twins do. How could you forget? Everything to you was clear as day, from the very first day to the last. Rintarou knows it hurts you more this way, but he never bothers to hide it from you—how he chose her over you.

"I'll break your heart by the end of this, baby." He warns you as you feel his length slip inside you, making you moan out in ecstasy.

"I don't care." You pant, grabbing him by the hips as a way of telling him to go faster.

Looking back, maybe you shouldn't have been so foolish and say that. Now, you're paying the price. Now, your exit has been sealed.

The moment you met him, you forgot everything – your reason, pride, dignity, loyalty, sense, self-love. You hate how intoxicates you like the drugs on his backseat and yet you can't stop. You wonder if he knows how you feel about him—how you still feel about him. If he notices the way your eyes would light up when you see him or the way you would wrap your arms so tightly like you're afraid of letting him go.

The car stopped soon after and you looked out the window to find yourself in front of your house. You collected your things and fastened the clasp on your sandals then opened the door, stepping a foot outside when he once again stops you by the wrist.

"I'll call you soon. I promise."

"I'll be waiting." You wriggle out of his grip without looking back, stepping your remaining foot out to join with the other as you stand up to leave. "Take care, Rintarou."

"You too, baby." The sound of his tires grow fainter by the second as he speeds off to his and his girlfriend's shared apartment and it was so loud, you couldn't tell if there was a strain on his voice when he said that or if you just imagined it again in your head.

You didn't notice the sobs wrecking your body. Not until you feel warm droplets fall to your open palms in front of you. You clutched your phone tightly, holding it to your chest.

You can only hope the next call comes soon, interrupting the continuous flow of the songs on your phone—the very records that remind you of what you never had—or perhaps, if things went a different turn; what you could've had with him.

[keilemlucent]

i am your salvation

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~13k

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected it’s abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy.

Only you know him like that.

warnings: manga spoilers, suicidal ideation, abuse, ANGST with a capital A, just sad :^(((

this piece is hellish, enjoy ;^))) beta’ed by the lovely @keiqos, bless u

----------------------

Keigo was fucked.

He was so beyond fucked.

He was dead.

Basically.

He was half-alive in a hospital bed. An IV drip in each arm, pumping him full of god knows what. He didn’t care to ask. All he knew was that he fucked up.

He’d gotten sloppy.

Stupid.

Pompous. 

And now his wings were fried off his back.

(By fucking Dabi no less.)

 The first conversation he’d had with his doctor upon waking at the HPSC hospital was one where he legitimately contemplated suicide for the first time in a long while.

  “Hawks... There’s no good way to say this. There just isn’t,” The doctor began, looking through Keigo’s chart, sighing deeply. There was something so grave about the way he moved through the sterile hospital room.

The doctor handed him a handheld mirror.��

Hawks slowly raised it up with weakened arms, knowing what he’d see. 

A gruesome burn tore down the left side of his face. It puckered the skin around his eye, narrowing his field of vision (thank god he still had any vision at all). The soft flesh around his eye was so angry and blistered, pockets of puss gathering beneath the surface of his skin.

But what was worse than the scar, so much fucking worse, was the absence.

The complete absence of his wings.

No stubs, no nubs. Just nothing. 

His back ached against the hospital bed as he handed the mirror back to the doctor.

The doctor sighed again. He spoke to Hawks like he didn’t think the hero already knew what he was going to say, “Your wings are gone. Fully. The scans we’ve taken show that the... well, roots of them in your flesh are still present, they’re encased in scar tissue. Even the sections that the feathers grow from are cauterized. In our professional opinion, we don’t think that they’ll ever grow again.”

His heart fell in his chest. 

It fell so deep.

So far.

He didn’t let himself cry.

Instead, he contemplated how hard it would be to overdose on morphine they were undoubtedly dosing him with. 

The doctor continued as Keigo stared sightlessly at his lap, “As established, the muscles that control the roots of your wings are still intact, yes. But, they’re heavily damaged in a way that will affect your everyday life. Even without your wings, the recovery to stabilize your injuries is going to be strenuous.”

Who fucking cared.

Hawks had spent the vast majority of his life training to be a hero and now the very thing that made him the best was literally burned from him. It felt unholy. It felt awful.

Fire wasn’t cleansing, it was putrid. Desecrated was his body as well as his mind.

  He didn’t listen to much else of what the doctor said. He let himself go blank, wishing tears would fall. 

 ...

 That was yesterday.

Today, he was allowed visitors. His PA came, informing him that the Commission was putting him on extended, indefinite (thankfully, somewhat paid) leave in exchange for media appearances. They also informed him that half of the top ten were dead after the war with the PLF. Ryuku, Miruko, Edgeshot, Kamuiwoods, Crust, all lost. And countless others, too. Even some students. It seemed that there was no clear winner of the fight that took so many and changed so much.

One of the most hard-hitting pieces of news was that Endeavor was in a coma, on life support, with a brain injury that would most likely kill him. At best, he’d be a vegetable. 

Keigo felt nothing but hollow as he laid in his hospital bed. He was half machine, based on all of the tubes and monitors that he was hooked up to. He felt truly mechanical and falsely alive. Truly, he was used up. He wanted to die. He was sure of it. 

Keigo wanted to ask his PA to smother him.

He didn’t.

 The next person to visit him was you. His PA had informed him that they were legally obligated to see him first, otherwise, you would’ve been clawing his door down.

You.

Keigo didn’t want you to see him like this. All the reasons you had fallen for him were gone. There was no confidence, no lip, no charm, no drive, no stunning scarlet wings— nothing. He even had the bonus deterrent of a nasty scar covering half his face. He was so sure that you’d take one look at him and turn right out the door. 

Leave him for good. 

Maybe spit on him for good measure.

The old muscles of his wings twitched as you walked through the door. It burned like an old hell. 

You’d clearly been crying, face and eyes puffy. 

But you were strong for him.

You pulled a chair up next to his bed wordlessly. You sat, laying your head on his antiseptic smelling sheets and mattress. Your eyes went half-lidded, just barely looking up at Keigo’s terrified expression. You reached out, grabbing one of Keigo’s clammy hands. You squeezed it.

“I’m here, Kei’,” Your voice was so quiet. “It’s alright. I love you. I’ve got you.”

It made him break.

The machines that he was reliant on screamed as he desperately grabbed at you, dragging you up with the little strength he had. You pushed him down, moving to half kneel on his bed. You didn’t make Keigo work for your touch. 

You cradled his head to your chest as his scarred hands fisted your sweater. He screamed into your sternum. Keigo wailed and cried with everything he had. He was losing himself, raging for far more than just his current injury.

 He bawled for every single time he couldn’t in his hero training, forced to be broken by the demands of the Commission. He sobbed for every casualty and death that was on his hands, righteous or otherwise. And, selfishly, he cried for himself. He let tears fall in mourning for the version of himself that died by Dabi’s hand. 

He let himself shatter in your arms for the burning muscles and scars of his back, the ache of his face, and the emptiness and vulnerability that his lack of wings graced him with.

You more than let him; you encouraged it.

You stroked his hair, matted with sweat and grease. You whispered soft adorations, validations and love into his ears. He can hear your tears too, but it didn’t stop you.

“I love you, Keigo.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re safe.” 

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ve got you, Kei’.”

“No one else will hurt you. I won’t let them.”

 You were far too late on the last one. But, you were quirkless. Powerless to stop the destruction that ravaged his body and now, his mind. 

Additionally, Keigo was relieved you didn’t say that ‘everything will be okay’. 

He knew it wouldn’t be.

You let him crumble against you for hours. 

Finally, he was spent, falling back in his bed, and letting you slump back into your chair. You took the liberty of finding a warm towel to wipe his face down with.

The rest of visiting hours, you laid your head on his mattress, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of sleep. Nurses came and poked and prodded him. They didn’t bother making conversation with either of you. 

They understood, to some degree. 

You were both together in mourning. 

A nurse came by later, night had fallen, telling you visiting hours were over. 

Keigo audibly whined.

You shook your head, running a thumb over Keigo’s knuckles.

“It’s alright,” You soothed both him and the nurse. “I’m not leaving.”

The nurse didn’t fight you, merely exited the room.

Keigo watched, awed. You retrieved a decently sized duffle bag and pillow that you’d brought (he hadn’t noticed). You set up a blanket and the pillow on a couch in the corner as a makeshift bed.

“Y-you’re staying?” Keigo asked, voice raw. 

You, somehow, smiled. So gentle and precious, nodding, “As long as you’d like me to. I told you, I’m here.”

Keigo relied on you for comfort in the past, sure. But not like this. Not like you were his anchor, tethering him to his existence now that his pride and preen were plucked from him. You were his salvation in that hospital room. You were the ground that he desperately and necessarily needed to learn to walk on.

 You both fell asleep quickly, dreaming of better things outside of your waking nightmare.

 ---------------------------

 Keigo was discharged two weeks later.

It is thoroughly confirmed that, unless by some medical miracle, his wings were truly toast. Gone for good.

The Commission brought in at least a dozen folks with spectacular healing quirks. Truly, the best the country had. Turns out, the Commission was clawing for hope too, in the wake of everything.

The efforts were in vain, of course.

Nothing stuck. 

The scar tissue wouldn’t shrink. The damage was too severe. The cauterization was so intense, it altered him. Forever.

 You stayed with him the whole time.

You went home, just a bit, maybe an hour a day. You showered then, changed clothes. 

You’d come back and do what you had been the whole time.

Just being there.

 You didn’t make him idly chat or make him watch shitty, hospital cable. You let him ruminate, stew, and simmer. You let him be crushed.

You were smart enough, empathetic enough to know that nothing you could do or say would lift him right now. 

He just needed you there.

And so, you were. 

 After being discharged with several prescriptions, orders to limit activity to allow for his other injuries (and concussion) to heal, the two of you went home. 

 Your first task was Keigo getting properly washed. 

At first, Keigo resisted.

“N-no, I’m fine, I’ll take one tomorrow,” Truthfully, he wouldn’t probably, not without your help. He just didn’t want you to see him so intimately in this state.

You shook your head, speaking as you brought several plush towels into the bathroom. You turned to Keigo who had wrapped his arms around his frail-looking form, looking at the floor.

You brought him into your arms, rubbing at his neck, not wanting to aggravate the injuries on his back, “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll feel good. Let me take care of you, please.”

You spoke so earnestly, it made Keigo fall apart. He hated being so helpless. 

He nodded against you.

You sat him on the toilet seat while you ran a bath in Keigo’s spectacular tub. You poured in epsom salts and some lavender bubble bath, filling the room with a familiar, herbal scent.

You helped him strip, mindful to not linger on any part of his body. Carefully, you lowered Keigo into the water. He could help but be surprised by the strength in your body to do so. Perhaps foolishly, he had never taken you as physically strong. After stripping yourself, you got in as well, across from him, so you wouldn’t see his scars. You were perhaps a bit too considerate.

The water burned his wounds, yet calmed his muscles. It was a different sensation than the ones he’d had for the past weeks. He welcomed it.

Keigo sagged in the bathwater, looking somewhat relaxed for the first time in so long. You knelt in the water and suds, lathering up his hair and body. So carefully did you wash away the sweat, smells, and lingerings of the hospital and the war that preceded it. You went through his hair with your own conditioner, figuring that the familiar smell might help keep him calm. Keigo didn’t say anything, just let you do as you needed. You carefully untangled any and all knots from his tresses, rinsing him down.

You dried him off, putting a few scented body oils on his dry patches of skin, parched from his time in the hospital. You still didn’t look at his back.

He felt ashamed and thoroughly disgusted. He smushed his face into your shoulder, gripping onto your like if he wasn’t, he’d die.

You find him fucking repulsive, right?

 “Kei’,” Your voice quiet still, “You okay?— Wait, don’t answer that.”

You chuckle at yourself. Keigo would’ve laughed too if he could. 

Keigo dressed himself, a semi-self sufficient act that made him feel better. Though, you picked out the clothes. Some of your own, soft, old garments that Keigo had seen you in a hundred times. 

It was only before he put on a shirt that you gave his back the quickest once-over, “You can put your shirt on now, Kei’. I just wanted to make sure it looked okay. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Even that much sight and contact of the old roots of his wings made him feel so ashamed. It burned the corpse of his ego like the hot fire that crisped his wings. 

Despite those nasty feelings, the simple act of wearing your shirt made him feel better. It felt so good, so good, to be surrounded by you instead of the sterility of the hospital. 

 You had been kind enough to leave the hospital for a bit longer than normal the day prior to go shopping. You bought Keigo a large, fluffy, ivory blanket. You even washed it, so it smelled like home (and you) too.  

After you helped him to the wide couch, custom made to accommodate Keigo’s now torched wings. It was a small burn (ha) to his psyche, but he tried to let it go as you got him comfortable.

You gave him your special pillow. The one Keigo loved to steal and take naps with. You covered him in the new blanket.

“Is that okay?” You asked, tucking him in. Keigo would normally be embarrassed by something childish like that, but he couldn’t make himself care. It felt so good to be comforted. 

 So softly, he replied, “You made it feel like home already.”

You let a sad smile drift to your face, massaging Keigo’s scalp as he sobbed into his new blanket. 

He was so glad to be surrounded by you, no matter how rotten he felt. 

 -------------------

 The first week home was the hardest. Sleeping was painful, even next to you. Eating was a fucking labor as he had no appetite. Nothing interested him in the slightest other than staring at walls and pretending he would wake up from this nightmare soon.

An at-home physical therapist was brought in. He had to retrain the muscles in his back to relax, now that they weren’t carrying the weight of his wings. The constant tension in his back would cause long term damage (not like he wasn’t already riddled with chronic injury), least of all tension headaches. 

Your job let you work from home. Thank god.

...

Keigo hated his exercises. They hurt so bad.

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected its abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy. 

Only you knew him like that.

 Keigo’s fists slammed against the floor as he strained with his PT exercises, the therapist themselves long gone for the day. You worked from your laptop on the couch. You weren’t supposed to aid him with his exercises unless necessary, as the therapist had instructed.

“Do you want me to help you?” You asked, almost coaxingly. 

Keigo beat his fists once more, crying out almost like a petulant child, (he hated himself for it oh my god—), “I don’t want to fucking do this! I can’t do this!”

And Keigo sobbed into the floor with abandon.

You moved from the couch to haul him into your arms, pressing his face into your neck. You said nothing, you just let him scream and die against you.

“I can’t do this!” 

“I hate this!”

“Make this fucking stop!”

“Just make this all fucking stop!”

“JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!”

This got you to speak, not shushing him, but just trying to soothe—

“IF YOU REALLY FUCKING LOVE ME, THEN YOU’LL SLIT MY THROAT IN MY SLEEP AND LET THIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE BE OVER!—”

 You froze. 

He didn’t.

Keigo kept begging you to kill him. 

Incessantly so.

He didn’t know what to do.

This was a tantrum, maybe. More like a breakdown. It felt dramatic. But, his thoughts were real. He’d be happy to die, especially by your hand. Then you wouldn’t have to take care of him and he wouldn’t be able to feel as awful as he did. 

You kept holding him, squeezing him harder and harder still. 

Finally, Keigo tuckered himself out and sagged against you. 

 You reached up to the side table, grabbing your own glass of water, and offering it to him. You still hadn’t spoken.

Part of him thought to apologize, crack a joke even. But he couldn’t make himself do either. Instead, his shaking hands grabbed the glass. You didn’t fully let it go, just guided it to his lips where it dribbles down his chin. 

Keigo sputtered a sob.

He couldn’t stand being so weak.

 “Love,” You spoke so softly as he sipped. “I will never hurt you like that. I won’t let anyone else, either.”

Keigo suddenly started fucking laughing, for the first time in so fucking long, ripping the cup fully from your hands and throwing it across the room. It shattered in a wild display of raining glass and water. He hadn’t laughed in what felt like months. He let it loose, grabbing your face and directing it right at you, breath curling over your cheeks.

He knew it was cruel, to take it out on you. He hated himself for it even as he was doing it.

“How the fuck do you think you’ll protect me?” Keigo cackled into your face, horror beginning to overtake your features. He didn’t care. It felt good— “You’re just some stupid, weak, quirkless civilian— how the fuck do you think someone as powerless as you can protect me when I can’t even protect me—!”

 He kept laughing, but he was crying. He couldn’t tell which was which. Keigo could only tell he was hysterical.

 This whole time, since he had woken up in the hospital, you had been nothing but the perfect partner. You had been so kind, asking for nothing in return.

And yet, he’d verbally strike you like this for no other reason than his own hurt.

How fucking cruel.

 You let Keigo go, unable to disguise the pain in your expression. You didn’t say anything back to him. As you left the room, you were covering your eyes with your arm. Keigo caught one of your sobs as you fled to the bathroom, almost slamming the door. 

 Keigo heard your muffled cries for hours until you fell asleep on the bathroom tile as his old burns and guilt ate him alive. 

 He tried his exercises again. 

 -------------------

 That night, Keigo was too deep in sleep to hear you enter your shared bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to sleep next to him. You thought about returning to the bathroom or moving to the couch. But, you couldn’t make yourself. 

Keigo’s words hurt so bad. 

Partially because they were cruel. They gnawed at your insecurities, the fears you were desperately suppressing for him. 

Partially because you hated the fact you couldn’t do more, despite already doing so much. 

Partially because you knew that Keigo would never say things like that to you if he wasn’t being eaten up on the inside. 

Partially because the love of your life asked you to snuff his life out. 

It all hurt. Stung. Ached. Burned. 

 There was a small detail that hurt in a different way.

He called you quirkless.

You weren’t quirkless.

Your quirk was so weak and so taxing, sure. It was basically unusable. For fucks sake, you never even bothered to tell Keigo directly as you never used it. He had access to citizen quirk records, and you figured he checked in the several years the two of you had been dating. Apparently not.

But, you did have a quirk.

You stood next to your bed, Keigo covered in the comforter and soft white blanket you’d gotten for him. You could see the peakings of his back. His skin was marred with burns, cuts and scars that looked unimaginably horrible. You’d been avoiding looking at it, for him. You’d seen how it made him cringe.

But now with Keigo sleeping so deeply? You took it all in.

You looked at the nearly black scarring where the roots of his wings were. The fanning out of puckered, red skin from the burns. His back, which once rippled with the muscles that controlled his crazily powerful wings, was now a charred plain. 

...

You had an awful, far-fetched, fucked up idea. 

You sat, sinking into the bed as you contemplated your idea.

You brought your hands to your face, concentrating on your fingertips. 

Small, tiny vines and green shoots left your fingers.

There’s absolutely no way that this will work.

But, you’d hate yourself if you didn’t try.

 Life reclaimed life, you supposed. 

You drummed up a half-assed plan. It was a weak, frail idea— it would need a lot of support. Even then, you didn’t want to give yourself false hope. You couldn’t give Keigo false hope. It would ruin him.

...

You’d have to fix your diet. Eat lots of nutrient-rich food. Take more vitamins too.

You slotted yourself next to Keigo who, in sensing your warmth, turned into you, pressing into your front. His head nuzzled into your chest, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

You heard him wince at the motion, flinching in his sleep.

You had to try. 

One of your hands went to his back, brushing down the comforter to reveal the particularly gnarly scars where Keigo had lost part of himself. You laid your hand flat on the fire-flayed skin, praying you don’t wake him. You concentrated, watching small greenery go from your fingers to his flesh, desperately trying to repair the damage that had been done. 

 ------------------------------------

 Keigo apologized to you the next morning. He clutched your chest and told you how sorry he was. He told you how he knows he’s acting out, he’s just so fucking sad—

You told him that he didn’t need to justify himself. Not to you. Though, you accepted his apology and asked him to not say those kinds of things to you again.

“I’m trying my best, and I know it's not enough sometimes... but it's all I’ve got,” You speak to him in your own small voice. One that portrayed a weakness that you hadn’t shown since Keigo had been injured.

He felt even guiltier. 

 But, the second week was better.

His exercises were getting easier. Eating came a little better too. You started cooking more, not getting as much takeout. Part of him missed the comfort of familiar street foods, but another part of him craved the home-cooked meals you made so much more. They helped him feel better too, packed with veggies and lean proteins. 

Keigo didn’t notice, he was far too out of it, but you were already looking more haggard. 

It came with using your quirk in general, let alone to the extent you were pushing it. It was a pitiful quirk and you’d never strained it half as far as you were then. 

It had a price. 

To heal others, even something as small as a paper cut would take from your own body.

And, you were dedicating at least thirty minutes a night to attempting to ‘heal’ (read: reconstruct) the tissue of Keigo’s back. You had to start so deep in his muscles; it hurt to push your quirk that far down. Within the first five minutes, that first night you tried, you were silently crying from exertion.

But, you didn’t relent.

Each day, it was a little easier.

Sure, you had bad nights where it was extra hard. You blamed it on not eating well enough, using up too much of yourself during the day. 

It was a shitty excuse, notably. Your quirk was weak and self-destructive, it was beyond your bodily capabilities. There was no way to tell if it was even working to heal Keigo’s body. It was a gamble. 

And your wager was your health and body.

Even eating optimally and taking a bevy of new vitamins each morning before Keigo awoke, you could tell your physical health was suffering. You were losing a bit of fat already. Dark circles were punched under your eyes from the exhaustion. You had developed the slightest shake when you moved.

And the worst part was, you knew that you’d only get weaker from here on out.

So, you upped your calorie intake. You kept careful track of the foods you ate, the same with Keigo’s. He didn’t seem to mind the delicious meals you now coveted crafting, no matter how tired you were. If he was eating better, it would probably help you too, right?

You could only hope, resting it all on a long shot. 

 --------------------------

 Week three was good, but hard. 

The HPSC commission forced Keigo to do a media appearance. He told them, bluntly, that he couldn’t fake it right now. Probably, forever. 

They told him to suck it up, get out there, and put some hope into their society that was being pulled apart at the seams.

Keigo refused to let you come. He didn’t want to think about how you’ll look at him when he’s all dressed in his hero uniform, wings absent from his back, forcing him to bear the two empty slots of his jacket. 

When he mentioned it, you offered to sew them up.

Keigo felt horrible, but he just gave a nod, handing you his jacket without looking at you. 

You stitched the slits shut for him. Keigo requested red thread for the stitching and you obliged him.

 (You made note that Keigo truly had no hope. You couldn’t tell him a thing about your quirk usage until you were positive that it would have results.) 

 The media appearance went okay. Not great, but okay. ‘Hawks’ was dead, and Keigo was not a performer like he was. Though he still went by his hero name, his real name only known by himself, the Commission, Dabi (may he rot in hell), and you. He coveted that you had the intimacy in knowing his identity, but it felt dirtier now that Dabi (Touya?) had that name in his throat as well.

 When Keigo came home from the media appearance, he was keyed up. He flitted around the apartment while you made dinner. There was an anxiousness in his movements.‘Hawks’ would’ve taken to the skies to fly off some of this fractious energy. Keigo just had to wait for food to be ready and pray that the feelings went away. 

Just before dinner, he decided to try exercises outside of the one his physical therapist assigned him. He was feeling energetic enough, right? Might as well pull out some of the easier moves from his hero training. 

Keigo moved to his now seldom-used at home gym. He picked up a dust-covered five-pound weight and proceeded to try and curl it. The moment Keigo brought it above his head, his back tensed and burned something fierce.

The weight fell from Keigo’s hand, half-thrown, luckily missing any and all of his toes and feet. 

He cried in frustration, stuck staring at himself in the wall of mirrors. 

Keigo truly thought he looked pitiful.

He was still wearing his hero uniform sans the jacket. He’d lost a lot of muscle mass with his more sedentary state. His hair was too long. He had gotten more pale, losing his few freckles. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth curl over his lips in a snarl—

“Keigo?” You opened the door to the gym, eyes wide with shock, but your tone didn’t change. He just glowered at you from the mirrors. You spoke again, staring him down with an almost scarily neutral poker face. “Dinner’s ready. Would you like to eat? Otherwise, I can save it for you.”

Keigo didn’t reply. He went back to trying to pick up the weight, screaming each time and hating how his back burned so intensely.

You left without saying anything. 

 ---------------------------

 Week four was hard because you and Keigo’s relationship is beginning to suffer. Or, it had been, but it was reaching a fever pitch. 

Keigo’s lack of human contact, lack of physical activity, and general cabin fever were getting to him. He was lashing out more and you, kind as you were, were having trouble dealing with it.

Your own run downstate was eating you alive, literally. No matter how much you put into your body, you needed more to heal Keigo. You were up to two hours a night of working at Keigo’s tissue with your quirk. By the end of your ‘sessions’, you would simply pass out and fall into listless slumber. You were losing a lot of sleep each night, but you were determined to keep going. 

Your exhaustion, in general, was making you a bit more prickly towards Keigo’s increasing frequent outbursts.

It all came to a head on a Sunday night.

The two of you were curled up on the couch, half-cuddling and half-watching TV.

A notice for breaking news showed red on the screen.

Both of you tensed. Before Keigo’s injury, he’d be rushing to throw on his hero gear and fly to help. Now, he just sat next to you, stiff as a board with pin-pricked pupils.

A picture, pre-PLF injury Endeavor flashed on screen.

“The Hero Public Safety Commission has just made the press release the former number one hero, Endeavor, is no longer in comatose.”

You watched a real, happy smile, spread on Keigo’s face. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope—

“But, he still remains in critical condition. Due to injuries affecting his central nervous system, he is reported as being in a state of paralysis. As of now, his life still hangs in the balance, though he is lucid.”

Keigo stiffened again.

There was rage painting his face. 

And pain. 

You stiffened with him.

You did not have it in you that night to deal with one of Keigo’s explosive moments. 

“Endeavor has left us all with this message—”

The camera flashed to an old video of the old ‘number one hero’, healthy and strong with a fist raised in the air.

You braced for impact as Keigo stood, shoulders hunching over.

Endeavors voice washed over your living room,

“Go Plus Ultra!”

And Keigo, honest to god, shrieked.

He fell to his knees and beat the floor beneath him. He slammed his fists in the hardwood over, and over, and over again. You slipped to the ground with him, trying to grab at his fists.

“Keigo, you’re gonna hurt yourself—” You tried to tell him. You managed to capture one of his fists, urging it to stay down-

But, you looked up to see Keigo giving a feral look with a frenzied, white-hot sneer all for you. 

 And his free fist flew towards you. It connected hard and solidly to your jaw.

You hadn’t been expecting it. Keigo had never struck you before, not even close. For fucks sake, he had never even raised his voice at you before his injury.

So, how could you expect to brace yourself for it?

The force of Keigo’s blow knocked you back. You jolted, falling onto your side and turning your head to the side, away from Keigo.

You brought a hand up to cup and shield your face, your jaw and eye socket throbbing. 

All you could feel was shock.

And sadness.

And horror.

And anger.

And terror.

 Keigo snapped out of it.

The news report was still playing, but he couldn’t hear it.

There was only the rushing of blood in his ears.

His mouth turned bone dry.

He had watched you move with his strike, falling more to the ground, hiding yourself—

“Oh my g-god, (Y/N),” Keigo’s voice was slippery and warbling. “I-I d-didn’t—” 

“No,” You stood up, still holding and hiding your face from him. His heart was crumbling in his chest.

You looked at him with only fear and heartbreak.

Keigo scrambled up, trying to apologize, hold you, mend this before it got worse—

But you put the hand that wasn’t cupping your face out, just barely touching his chest. You refused to let him any closer. 

“H-hey Kei’?” Your voice sounded so, so shaky. It’s hardly there. You were holding back tears and it was so obvious. It made every part of Keigo burn with shame. “I can’t today. Maybe another day, I could deal with this, y-ya know? But not today, okay? Have a g-good night.”

You walked away before he could say anything else.

 You dashed off to the guest room, shutting and locking the door before falling against it and breaking. You cried and rocked yourself as you tried to self-soothe your shattered body and mind. 

The month prior had been so hard. The person you love was hurt so deeply, and though you were trying with everything you had to help, it didn’t seem like enough. You were getting verbally beat up semi-frequently and now Keigo had fucking hit you. 

You were scared. You were terrified that this would become the norm. That Keigo’s outbursts would continue to worsen, as they had been, and you would become a physical punching bag for him.

It especially hurt because you were trying so hard to help Keigo. 

You weren’t delusional enough to think you could really fix him, were you? 

The fact that you were secretly and silently trying to regenerate Keigo’s body with a quirk he didn’t even know you had struck you bluntly in your mind.

“I’m just so fucked up, aren’t I?” You laughed and sobbed to yourself at the same time, slamming your head backward on the door, relishes the pain that floods your skull. It was a reprieve from the bruises blooming across your cheekbone. 

You eventually managed to cry yourself to sleep, literally. You curled up in a ball on the floor next to the door, worn down to the bone.

 In the early morning, far before dawn, you pulled yourself into half-wakefulness. 

You were relentless and you were coming to hate yourself for it.

You needed to work on Keigo, no matter how you shitty felt.

You crept into the master bedroom, trying to be silent. You didn’t want to wake him. Only when you were fully in the room did you notice a soft lamp is still on despite it being early, early morning. 

Wide awake and upright, Keigo looked horrified to see you. He looked at you, shaking and half-sobbing into a pillow he clutched to his chest.

You both seemed shocked to see each other. 

You sniffled as you turned off the lamp, stripping down to just a t-shirt and panties before climbing into your side of the bed.

You refused to face him while he was awake. You got as comfortable as you could (which wasn’t much). 

There was half an hour of disgustingly awkward silence. It coated the room, bearing the two of you who refused to sleep. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Keigo had yet to move. He was frozen in place as you were turned away from him in the dark. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

Silence.

Your mouth felt dry and your mind parched. 

“Keigo,” You spoke like a being empty. You truly felt like it too. “If you ever touch me like that again, I will do worse than just leave you.”

It was a threat.

You let yourself have it, in all of this. You deserved one low blow. 

Keigo slowly slid down into the covers, babbling apologies and beginning to cry again. 

“Stop, Kei’,” You finally turned towards him, cupping his face. He blinked at you, eyes wide and glassy. “I love you. Just stop. Apologizing doesn’t make something like this better. I can’t do this if you keep hurting me, you know that. Just be better.”

Keigo winced at that. He knew it was true, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.

You fell asleep on each other that night. You let your headrest nestled up against Keigo’s chest. He breathed softly above you, arms wrapped securely around you, holding you tightly like he was afraid you’d leave. You wouldn’t. You made the decision to stay at the beginning of all this. Your threats would always be empty. 

Idly, you had an arm thrown over Keigo’s waist, snaking up the back of his shirt to press your fingertips against his scars. Your roots and greenery didn’t have to go as deep now, as far as you could tell.

But, it had been a month with no discernable progress, visual or otherwise. 

But, you held onto hope. 

Because you had to hold onto hope that Keigo would get better. 

All of him.

 -------------------------------

      The second month was... different. 

Keigo tried with his whole heart to earn back your trust.

You flinched at him for the first week or so. 

He hated himself so fucking much each time you did. But, he never blamed you. He couldn’t.

(Even as you twitched away from him in the daylight, you tirelessly worked on his scars in his sleep. You couldn’t give up, no matter how awful you felt). 

Keigo did his exercises several times a day. He made a few more media appearances but refused to be seen with Endeavor. He (and truthfully, the Commission) knew that he could not psychologically handle it.

You were rapidly getting weaker, but you didn’t care. You ate more, slept when you could, and pushed on. You were up to three hours of healing a night. Tears rolled down your cheeks the whole time.

You were clinging to the prayer that you could unburn Keigo’s back like it would save you from your personally made hell. 

This was despite the fact he was already crawling out of the pit himself. 

 Your existence was eased slightly as Keigo was starting to help out more. 

Keigo wasn’t anywhere near normal— normal Keigo was dead in a disintegrated building, miles from your shared home. But, he was getting better.

 His muscles felt better. He wasn’t sure how, but they did. His PT exercises must’ve been working. The outbursts he had thrown so often during the first month pittered out to maybe once or twice a week. They were calmer now. You were still his anchor, of course, that was undeniable. But, it was mostly crying and clutching and not screaming and breaking.

It was a welcome shift.

Most of the time, Keigo would pull you into his lap and wrap you in his embrace. Softly, he’d sway and rock the two of you, like he was trying to lull and calm not just himself, but you in tandem.

A lot of the time, this was true. 

Your flinching subsided and Keigo had no more close calls with any physical violence towards you. In a few high strung moments, he still snapped at you. He’d apologize, and do better. At least, you told yourself that. That’s how you saw it anyways. 

Keigo was thoroughly traumatized. His mind was an open nerve and that had consequences. You were so endlessly tired. What kind of wounds and trauma were you incurring?

You forced yourself not to think about it. 

 Part of you, during this month, wanted to simply pack a bag and leave without a trace. 

But, you stayed with Keigo. You stayed determined. 

(Or, you stayed out of spite. On your bad days, you really had trouble figuring it out.)

Your body looked like shit. You were endlessly glad Keigo still wasn’t in a position to be having any sort of sex because he probably would’ve noticed how fucked up your body was getting.

You shook constantly, always quaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. Your skin bruised with almost any contact beyond light touch. Your eyes, once vibrant and expressive, had sunk in. 

Your body, no matter the several thousand extra calories you forced yourself to eat a day, still ran through your fat reserves. It was leeching muscle from you. It made your joints feel raw. 

 It almost hurts that you noticed how Keigo is so pained, but he didn’t notice you falling apart.

 -----------------------

      The third month was when shit hit the fan.

It was near the end of the month. 

You were doing so badly. You stretched yourself far beyond your body's abilities. 

You felt particularly sick, but you needed to get groceries. Keigo couldn’t himself for a host of reasons, which made it your job. You kissed him on the cheek as you left for the market.

Meanwhile, Keigo’s physical therapist dropped by for a check-in appointment. 

Keigo did his exercises beautifully. He had to admit, his muscles didn’t ache in nearly the same way they used to. They only really hurt when the weather changed, like he was some old, arthritic man. 

“Wow!” His therapist gasped, watching him complete his exercises. “It’s looking great, Hawks. It looks like you’ve gained back a lot of strength.”

The small amount of praise made him beam as he sat up. 

“I just want to check the actual wounds around your back, if that’s alright? Just feel the scar tissue,” The therapist asked. Keigo bit his lip, slowly pulling off his tee-shirt. He didn’t like the idea of anyone’s hands being that close to the intimate roots of his dead wings. 

But, it was necessary.

Keigo faced his back to her.

All he got was an audible gasp as the therapist’s hands traced at his spine.

“The progress back here- Hawks this is insane,” The other was alight, pressing a thumb somewhere near the root. It hardly even hurt. “The scar tissue— it’s not gone, but it's a lot more tender than it should be. Like it's actually healing.”

“Is that why it doesn’t hurt so bad?” Keigo asked, letting a few slivers of joy light him up from the inside out. During his initial prognosis, multiple doctors had said that he was going to be on fire for years, not months. 

The therapist nodded, “Looks like it. Even the scarring on the surface looks pretty good. Must have some damn good genes to be healing like this.”

The two laughed, Keigo feeling more lighthearted than he had in months. 

 You, on the other hand, were greatly struggling. 

You were so, so fucking cold; yet another bi-product of your overextension. You were wrapped in an oversized cardigan on top of one of Keigo’s mock necks. You couldn’t stop trembling as you try to shop as quickly and effectively as possible. Anything to get you home as soon as possible. 

You had a great deal of difficulty doing this, though.

If you moved too fast, your vision blacked out. It had been like that for a while, a week or two. You’d lost track. You figured it was your iron, maybe blood pressure. 

It was an easy thing to hide at home, but much harder in public.

You reached for something high on a metal shelf, tossing it into your cart. You needed another item, on the bottom shelf. You dropped to your knees, your body aching and rolling.

Almost done.

So close. 

Then you can go home and rest.

You stood up too fast. Your vision went black ringed for a second. You stumble, trying to catch yourself as you lost sight. 

You felt weightless for a moment, spinning, Though your limbs felt weighed down, impossible to move. As your vision returned, its field wouldn’t move, pointed up at the ceiling of the crowded market. 

There were people speaking, shouting around you.

Alarmed.

Speaking to you?

You didn’t care.

You were so, so tired.

You let your eyes slip shut.

 ------------ 

 Keigo had been waiting for you for several hours longer than it took to go grocery shopping, sure. And, to have you gone from the apartment so long made him itch too. It had been eating him, making him pace around. You hadn’t been answering your phone either. He figured you had made a detour and let your phone die.

 When he received a call from the local civilian hospital about you, he feels his blood freeze in his veins. 

“You’re listed here as (Y/N)’s emergency contact as a partner, yes?” The nurse asked. “They collapsed at a local market. They’re stable, but we’d recommend coming to the hospital as soon as you’re able to.” 

Keigo nodded, head swimming.

You’re hurt.

You’re safe, but you’re hurt.

...

Keigo was whisked to the back of the hospital in a poor disguise. He gets recognized, given some extra security. The scar that marred his face was enough of a marker even if he didn’t have wings. He hardly cared. He couldn’t. 

Your door opened to a very dark room, soft beeps and hums filling it. 

He imagined that he must've been feeling close to how you felt, seeing him in such a similar position those few months ago.

The nurse enters ahead of him, clicking around on a tablet to pull up your chart.

Keigo could hardly pay attention. He felt like he was going to die, seeing you like that.

You had an IV, pushing fluids into your thinned arms. Your face was hollow looking, sockets sunken, especially with your eyes closed like they were. You had several blankets on you, piled over you. Yet, you were still visibly shivering.

The nurse whispered, “They’ve been asleep for a while now. A doctor will be in soon. Just sit tight.”

She left the room while Keigo pulled a chair up to your bed. 

The smell of the hospital burned his nose. It reminded him far too much of his own time. All that pain. 

The ache in his back flared, but he figured it was somatic.

 Keigo reached out as he sat, holding one of your frail-looking hands in both of his own (had you looked this purely death stricken this morning? Keigo couldn’t recall either way, and he hates himself for it).

Your eyes slowly opened.

 Keigo met your gaze, breath caught in both of your throats.

Neither of you got a chance to speak, not a moment of fucking comfort, before a doctor barged in, flipping through your chart with a bored look on his face.

“We finished up your testing. Lucky for you, no concussion or fractures from your fall,” The doctor nods. He doesn’t even seem to notice Keigo, or rather, Hawks. “The rest of your results aren’t looking so great though.”

Your hand stiffened violently in Keigo’s grip. Your face went from worn and exhausted to filled with terror and... guilt?

 You were fucked.

The doctors and nurses had mentioned to you that they were fairly certain that all of your symptoms came from quirk overuse. You started weakly crying at that, your nurses looking confused. You didn’t elaborate then. You knew, the moment you woke up in the hospital that you were going to have to confront your own damage to your body.

You were going to be forced to explain it.

To Keigo.

The doctor continued. 

“Low levels of nearly all essential vitamins and minerals. Particularly low iron, magnesium, and potassium. In general, your test results and physical state would lead me to think you’re suffering from malnutrition. But, your panel shows that your metabolic rate is actually going abnormally quickly in a way that could only be linked to-”

Wait for it.

“Quirk overuse-”

Keigo barked out a laugh, letting go of your hand, “I’m sorry, but what? They’re quirkless, it has to be something else.”

 You didn’t say anything. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, are trained on your lap. You’re taking sharp, quick breaths.

You’re going to have to tell him everything.

 The doctor flips through your chart again, shaking his head and bringing it over for Keigo to look at, “I apologize if this seems out of turn, but they’re listed in the public files as having a quirk... It’s marked as a weak healing quirk, but all the same, any strength of quirk has overuse.”

Keigo is stone still.

There’s tension so thick in the air of the room that the doctor excuses himself. 

 Keigo, for months now, had been in a traumatized stupor. His normally sharpened senses, aided by his wings, were the key to so much of his cunning. Both his physical and mental states were affected, which had made him less observant.

It had caused him to disregard so much. 

 But now, in your stupid, acrid hospital room, he was quickly putting it together. 

His back burned again. 

 You felt frozen. You couldn’t force yourself to move. You couldn’t do anything other than look at your lap and roll in your head. Your body hurt so bad, your head hurt too, and so did your fucking heart.

 “Can I clarify? Because I think I have an idea of what’s going on.”  Keigo had physically moved away from you. He leaned back in his chair, staring down with a mix of expressions you couldn’t suss out. It made you feel even sicker.

You nodded.

“Breath, (Y/N),” Keigo reminded you. He watched you take a massive inhale, followed by tears beginning to gather. You still wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

 “Have you been... using your quirk on me? Without me knowing?” Keigo asked, trying to keep his voice firm, but truthfully, it wanted to waver and bend so badly. “Please be honest.”

You nod, breaking down to rub at your eyes. 

Keigo doesn’t stop the instinctual way he moved towards you, leaning over your bed and wrapping his arms around me.

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head, he broke the illusion:

“Please tell me what’s going on. Please.”

And so, you did.

It came out tearfully, you spilling and cracking as you did. You felt stupid and guilty and awful, but at least you were out of this fucked up lie. 

It all poured out of you. Your fear and your desperation were all laid out and Keigo was reading the cards.  

You explained that your quirk has always been weak in addition to taxing on the body. Hence, you had seldom, if ever, used it as an adult. You were effectively quirkless and you were okay with that. Keigo had never asked so you never told him. 

You tell him, voice shaking, what happened the night Keigo had pleaded with you to kill him.

“I-I, Kei’,” You push out, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do. You were so hurt and so sad and I had this stupid fucking idea that maybe, maybe I could use to my quirk to heal you.”

Keigo’s breath catches. He doesn’t say anything for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me? Ask me?”

“I didn’t know if it would work. I still don’t know if it does. It didn’t wanna... I didn’t want to get your hopes up. E-especially since it would’ve been coming from me.” You pressed harder into him like you’re scared of him disappearing. “You were already so crushed.”

Keigo didn’t know what to say. There was a swirl of emotions bubbling and writhing in his body and mind and he didn’t know what to say for the first time in a long time.

 So he didn’t say anything.

Keigo sat back in his chair, putting his elbows to his knees, using folded hands to rest his head on, parsing through his own feelings.

“K-Keigo?” You asked, wiping a tear away. As much as Keigo hated seeing you like this, he also recognized your state was by your hand. 

Right?

“Sweetheart, I love you—” Keigo stopped himself, sighing deep in his chest. “But, I can’t... I just need some time.”

 You nodded, tears coming back to drip down your face.

Keigo just watched with a neutral expression.

 -----------------

 Despite not being able to handle talking to you, Keigo was more than willing to help you out of the hospital. You were discharged with a prescribed diet and vitamins as well as a followup appointment in a few weeks. 

“And, most importantly,” The doctor made eye contact with you. “Don’t use that quirk of yours until further notice. Honestly, with it being so destructive, I can’t understand why you would in the first place.”

You burned with shame.

The night you came back from the hospital, Keigo took incredible care of you. He didn’t talk much during it, not to you anyways. He was nearly constantly speaking under his breath, all unintelligible. From his tone and myriad of expressions, you guessed he was verbally processing. 

Keigo gingerly gave you a bath, scrubbing away the smells and stickiness of the hospital. He managed to cook you one of the nutritious recipes you had shown him a few weeks ago. You sheepishly had to ask for another portion, explaining how your metabolism burned so quickly.

“Have...” Keigo finally spoke while making you another plate. “Have you always been eating this much?”

You nodded, sipping your water, “For a long time, yes.”

He hated himself for not noticing such obvious things. 

 Keigo kept carrying you from place to place, no matter how much his back hurt. He didn’t care. He couldn’t.

He laid you in bed at some point, sliding in next to you. He still hadn’t spoken much since you’d left the hospital. 

You had tried to babble apologies and beg for forgiveness, but selfishly, Keigo wasn’t listening. He was trapped in his own head. Even when you clung to him in the bath, he could hardly make himself hold you up from sliding too far into the water. 

It almost hurt to touch you.

 It was late when Keigo finally verbally, directly regarded you. 

“Why?” Keigo asked. You’re both turned away from each other. The bed had been vibrating with your harsh breathing and crying for an hour or so now. “Why did you do all this?”

You stop shaking, but only for a moment.

Your voice is so soft, weak, “Please don’t blame yourself. It was my choice.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Keigo could hear the anger in his voice. “Why. Did. You. Do. This?”

You’re silent for a moment. 

And then you’re sitting up, yelling.

“Because I didn’t know what else to fucking do!” You gripped your hair at the roots, pulling. “You asked me to fucking kill you, Keigo! You begged me to!”

Keigo sat up, staring you down. He felt so much anger and rage in him, it was bubbling up, “That doesn’t mean you had to hurt yourself like this for me!”

“I didn’t want to hurt myself! I wanted to help you! Using my quirk was all I could do!” You looked over at him, digging your nails into your exposed thighs. “What else was I supposed to do!”

“Exactly what I thought you were doing, helping me!” Keigo screamed back at you. “You were doing so good at it!”

“You wanna know why I could even help?!” You shouted. You grabbed Keigo’s shoulders and brought him inches away from your face. “Because, every night, I got to give myself just a shred of hope that you would get better. That maybe, maybe your wings would come back and you’d smile like you used to instead of yelling at me, and hitting me, and asking me, begging me, to slit your fucking throat!”

 You couldn’t stop crying. Your body was so run down, so depleted, but it still musters up the energy to drip tears like a flooded creek. You wanted to run and leave the bed, retreat to the bathroom where you can break down on the tile in peace, alone where Keigo wouldn’t have to watch. You’d done it enough prior to know he wouldn’t check on you.

 Keigo stared at you with wide eyes. 

He didn’t know what to say at first

He was feeling so much—

 Keigo didn’t know what to do or say.

So, he just twisted the knife, one could say.

 “You should’ve just left if you were really that miserable with me.” Keigo regretted it the moment it left his lips. You tense up, looking at him with a gaze he could only call broken.

 “No,” You grabbed your shoulders, rocking yourself. “No, Kei’, I couldn’t, I won’t—”

“Then stop complaining.” Keigo shrugged. God, this was awful, wasn’t it? Why wouldn’t he just shut up? “You’re the one who stayed and tortured yourself. That’s on you.”

“So you’d rather have that I... left?”

“Duh,” Keigo laughed, staring down your crying form. You’re so decrepit in your current state. He hated looking at you, purely because he knows he was at least a portion of what led to this. But, he’d never admit it. “Fuck, (Y/N), you didn’t have to kill me, and you didn’t have to kill yourself either.” 

 He’s splitting inside as he watches you break in front of him. Some fucked up, sadistic part of him relishes it. The other, muted, more sane part is screaming at him to stop fucking talking-

“You really got yourself hospitalized for overusing a quirk on me that I didn’t even know you had. You were so desperately trying to get me my wings back, all while acting soooo supportive of me trying to live without them?!” Keigo bellowed at you. You cowered, bent legs beginning to slide off the bed — “Do you realize how fucked up that is? That, behind closed doors, while I was fucking asleep, you were trying to fix me? Well, guess what, (Y/N), I’m broken beyond fucking repair, and no cute little shit you pull is going to fix me!”

Keigo shrieked his last words.

You fell off the bed, slamming onto the floor. A sickening crack filled the room as your head, basically unsupported, met the hardwood.

 “Stop it!” You were screaming yourself silly from the floor. Your head hurt so badly. Maybe you were bleeding. You didn’t care. “Stop it!”

You knew you couldn’t handle this.

You were raw. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t confront any more than you had already that day. Your body hurt so badly and your mind hurt too. Everything Keigo said just rubbed salt in the wounds he helped to create.

“Keigo, just fucking stop it!”

Your vision spun. You thought that maybe you were hyperventilating. You couldn’t feel your hands, numbness beginning to pull at your extremities. 

“I’m fucking sorry!” You wailed. “What would do if you were in my position, Keigo?! Just watch me suffer and not do anything even if you could?!”

Keigo leaned over the bed, giving you the most empty look you’d ever seen him wear. 

“I would’ve just fucking left, (Y/N),” He spoke in a monotone, eyes like dead coals. “I would’ve just left.”

You stared up at him.

This horrible feeling had filled you from toes to top and you couldn’t escape it.

 Keigo didn’t say anything else as you panicked on the floor. He simply got up, left for the guest room, and slammed the door.

 Neither of you ever felt as awful as you did that night.

 --------------------

 Keigo didn’t sleep that night.

Neither did you.

 He figured (he hoped) you’d be gone by the morning. Maybe you would just pack your dusty suitcase and get the fuck out.

...

Truthfully, not a single fragment of Keigo wanted you to leave. No piece of him wanted you to go out of his life. God, if he really thought about it, the prospect of not being side-by-side in this world together threw him into bends of anxiety and pure grief. 

Truthfully, as Keigo silently, tearfully, examined your actions, he felt his anger ebb away.

He understood. 

Why you did what you did.

But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

Guilt was eating him, too. For all the horrible things he had said. The things he’d done that hurt you without regard for months now. The fact he never noticed you deteriorating. And all the nights you crept back into your shared room, for comfort and to keep trying to help him, though perhaps cruelly. 

 It was dawn when Keigo exited the guestroom. He figured that you were either gone or would be soon.

He was clearly mistaken.

Keigo stopped when he saw you at the kitchen table, head down, and resting on your folded arms. You were wearing a huge sweater, one of his, and a blanket around your shoulders.

Keigo had, incredibly selfishly, somewhat forgotten your physical state.

He ached.

 “I made coffee,” You said quietly. You looked up, meeting Keigo’s gaze with bloodshot, puffy eyes. “It’s still warm.”

“Why are you here?” Keigo asked, heart starting to beat too fast again. “Why haven’t you left-?”

“Do you really want me to leave?” You asked with an unfamiliar edge to your voice. It’s not anger or malice, but something different. You stand, bracing yourself on the table, wobbling. Keigo wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms and apologize. But, he doesn’t. 

 You looked at him with this edge of fierce determination, asking the penultimate question, the core of this all, “Keigo, do you want me to leave because of my actions, or do you want me to leave because you don’t think you deserve help?”

There was a poignant quiet over the apartment. 

The birds of the new day interrupted it from outside, chirping with the eos of dawn.

“I don’t think... I—” Keigo was speechless again, stuttering. “You shouldn’t have hurt yourself so bad.”

“That’s been established, I went too far. I should’ve told you, offered and asked, and go from there. It ultimately was a complete breach of boundaries and for that, I’m sorry. Fuck my good intentions, it was selfish.” You squeezed the edge of the table, eyes low. Your gaze turned up sharply to meet his, that edge of determination and fierceness in it that Keigo was unfamiliar with. “My question is, do you want me to leave?”

Keigo stared at his feet. His head was swimming, “You should leave.”

“I asked if you want me to,” You asked again. You were being more firm than you had ever been. You sounded unbreakable. It was that stubbornness that kept you there with him, right?

Keigo met your eyes with a sharp glare, “You should’ve left the night I asked you to kill me.”

You sighed, shaking visibly, but still keeping yourself so strong, “Please just answer me. Do you want me to leave? If we’re going to break up, let’s just call it that, and get it over with, okay Kei’?”

Oh, hearing you say ‘breakup’—

That broke Keigo. 

Having to truly think and reckon with a reality where you weren’t with him and you weren’t facing the horrors of the world together was purely the stuff of nightmares. 

The stupid little facade Keigo had so carefully crafted broke. The burns on his body started to ache anew, somatically. The scar over his eye twitched as tears were gathering anew. 

“N-no,” Keigo hugged himself, shaking his head. “N-no— I don’t want you to go—” 

You didn’t say anything, just watched him with a sad expression.

“Then I won’t.” You sat back down. “Keigo, I know that this is all fucked beyond belief. I know. But, I won’t leave. I really, really don’t want to. I won’t, not unless you want me to go.”

And Keigo was breaking for you again. 

He somehow stumbled next to your chair, managing to fall to his knees and rest his head on your cold, cold thigh. He pressed his nose into your flesh, trying to fucking absorb your smell like you could disappear any moment. 

“Why did you do it-” Keigo sobbed into your skin, nails biting in the flesh of your calves. It made you jerk in your seat. “WHY DID YOU HURT YOURSELF FOR ME!”

You didn’t have a good answer for him, so you didn’t reply. 

Keigo’s grip on the flesh of his leg started to break skin as he wailed into your leg.

You just looked down at him with this expression of pure remorse,  melancholy coloring your eyes.

You grabbed his clawed-hands, recalling the last time you tried a move like this with a twitch. You held his hands in your own, pulling him up, “You can’t do that, Keigo. You’re hurting me.”

“All I DO is hurt YOU!” Keigo crushed you into a tight hug, knocking the wind from you. You jolt forward into his death grip. 

 “It was my choice,” You remind him, so much weakness in your choice. “A very, very selfish one. If I was going to try to heal you, I should’ve asked.”

You started crying with him. 

You both were just torturing yourselves, truthfully. 

 At his core, Keigo was a fucked up man who was so thoroughly repressed and manipulated, it was hard to see his psychological shortcomings. They were all so meticulously hidden. 

But not then, not after losing his wings.

“I’m so fucked up,” Keigo kept crying into you as you had his hands locked together. “I hate myself for being this upset at you when you were trying to help me.”

“Love,” Your voice was so soft, releasing Keigo’s hands to pet his hair. “It wasn’t right for me to try and do what I did. You can’t help how you feel.”

“I could before I lost them!” Keigo muffled himself with your flesh.

Them being his wings, obviously. 

You hauled him upwards, forcing him to sit in your lap. Keigo had always had a bit of size on you, but in your shrunken state, it was even more pronounced. 

“Then you weren’t feeling,” You pressed your face to Keigo’s chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. He entangled himself with you, and you both just held each other for a long, long time.

 ------------------------

In the following six months, a many very important things happen.

Keigo got a place for you for two entire months, just so you two have some separation. After actually having a calm talk about your relationship dynamic since Keigo’s injury, it was comically apparent there were so many fucked up things that had happened and that you both needed a bit of time to collect yourselves.

It was a hard separation, but you still see each other at least half of the days of your time apart, and even a few that you snuck over for the night to stay over. Keigo was so, so thankful. Being wrapped in each other was a different experience, something actually healing. 

You both got therapists, next. A couples therapist too. 

Thank God. 

Keigo had oodles of trauma to sort through, and you had your own shit to deal with as well. Not to mention the whole ‘Keigo being a dick to you because he was hurt doesn’t justify it’ kinda broke your brain for a second. Also, Keigo having to process ‘he was capital A abusive to you after he got hurt, and your only stability being the hope in healing you is much more complicated than just them trying to ‘fix’ you’ was a case of note. 

It was weird, really. 

 When you moved back, fully, to Keigo’s (you weren’t sure if you could call it ‘your’ apartment anymore), it was nerve-wracking. It was under the understanding that you could move out if you needed to, that separation and an ending were just a corner away.

It made you feel more unstable than you had in months, but you kept up with it. 

Keigo noticed, much more observant than he had been. About two weeks into you returning to the apartment, he asked the question, “What if we moved?”

You had been quietly eating your breakfast, but this startled you, “Move? Why?”

“I mean,” Keigo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to the living room, recalling the times he broke down and was so awful to you. It shifted to the bedroom door where you broke boundaries over and over. “A lot of bad stuff happened here. If we’re going to have a fresh start, might as well live somewhere new, right?”

You mused on it for a moment, then nodded, “Yeah, that would be good.”

The next few weeks were the most healthy and productive that you and Keigo ever had, pre- or post-injury. Apartment hunting turned into purchasing a two-floored, highrise, insanely nice condo across the city. Keigo suggested buying a house, but you refused. You both liked the views too much to live somewhere so close to the ground.

You packed your things, mutually. You both threw away plenty, bits and bobs that had been relatively unused for a long time. Lots of old memories were thrown out to make way for new ones. Though it was sad and there was plenty of grief in it, you actually had each other this time. 

When you found Keigo sobbing, clutching an old picture of him and Touya, one of the only of him from his childhood with the Commission, you held him and rocked him. You cried with him, not just settling for ‘dealing’ with him anymore. 

When you cleaned out the kitchen, you found the two dozen extra vitamins and extracts you had been taking while healing Keigo. You stared at him, idly, for ten minutes, somewhere far off in your head. Keigo came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. Softly, he pulled you back from your mind. He helped you throw away each bottle, talking reverently to you so your gaze and mind would stay in that moment, and not those past and unsavory.  

You helped each other, or, were learning to.

 You and Keigo both had to agree that shopping for furniture was probably the most fun the two of you had in a while. With a facemask and a beanie on, Keigo appeared a lot less like his former self, allowing for the two of you to covertly search for new homewares without prying crowds.

The old apartment had originally been Keigo’s from his early years of being a hero. You simply moved in with him, adding yourself to his space. This time, you were making it together. 

 “What do you think of this one?” You turned to Keigo, next to you. Both of you laid on top of a fairly nice mattress, the store relatively empty aside from the employees and the two of you.

“I think it's good, it’s not too soft,” Keigo turned and smiled at you, speaking from behind his mask. 

You couldn’t help sitting up, tugging the cloth mask just a bit lower to drop a sweet kiss on the side of his mouth, “Get out the credit card then, babe.”

 The condo was sorted within a few weeks, full of furniture and slowly being decorated. 

You also had the opportunity to christen the mattress, if you will.

...

How long had it been since you and Keigo had laid together like this? 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and cum, several rounds having passed throughout the night. Your new mattress was going to need a fresh change of sheets after this.

“Hey, angel, come over here,” Keigo tugged you closer to him, laying your head on his chest. You smiled softly, pressing closer. You missed it, truly, the warmth of his body and the feeling of his skin on your own like this.

“Alright, check-in,” Keigo pressed a kiss to your damp forehead. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel great,” You hummed, throwing a leg over his waist. “I can honestly keep going.”

“Should you?” Keigo raised an eyebrow and chuckled, nudging a knee between your legs. You flinched, knowing how sore you’d be in the morning already. 

Though your body had recovered somewhat, you weren’t fully back to where you were before Keigo’s injury. You didn’t mind, though. Keigo had taken to doting on you a bit more than he used to. 

You shrugged and Keigo just chuckled, bringing you ever-closer. 

“Are you okay?” You straddled Keigo’s hips, cocking your head to one side. 

Keigo was silent for a moment, stormy almost. He bit his lip, tracing hands and eyes over your figure, finally landing on your face. His softened hands cupped your jaw. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” His thumb rubbed over your lips. There’s something so melancholic about him. “I just missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by ‘miss’.

 It was a feeling beyond sex, but rather intimacy. Sure, Keigo had been balls deep in you for the first time in months and that was ecstasy you wouldn’t trade the world for. But, this feeling Keigo regarded was different.

It had been so long since the two of you had been so softened around each other.

Guards, after months of being raised high, had begun to fall.

  Thank God.

 Your eyes watered as you lowered your face to his, ghosting your lips over his, “I missed you too, Kei’. I missed you so, so much.”

 How many minutes of hell had your both endured? And how many were there still to go? Thoughts of fear and anguish constantly swirled within the two of you for so long. They certainly hadn’t stopped, but they were lessening. Therapy helped. Being in the new place with a fresh start did wonders for the two you. Keigo’s passion for cooking continued to grow and you had taken up a few new hobbies of your own. 

It was the mundane, you supposed, that was the stitching for broken relationships. The real healing of proverbial flesh and bone was intimacy, vulnerability, and love.

“Hey, Kei’,” You kissed him breathless, once, twice, three times. “I love you, you know? A lot.”

“Yeah?” Keigo giggled, something high and light that he wouldn’t have released a year ago. “I love you too. So much.”

 The night continued in tender fucking, the two of you visibly watching wounds begin to grow smaller and scar, no more fire, and no more forced stitchings. 

Salvation came from time and small things, you supposed, half-asleep and nestled neck to Keigo, feeling better than you had in a long time.  

---------------

     You supposed, some time later, that karma gave the two of you a small gift. In the eyes of all things, it must’ve been just a spec, but God, it was something. 

     ...

They had come back over a year and half from when you had tried to heal Keigo. 

The attempt wasn’t forgotten, no, but it certainly wasn’t at the forefront of your minds like it used to be. Except the one morning that Keigo got up before you, sleepily yawning his way to the bathroom.

You heard his sharp gasp, loud exclamations in your half asleep state.

“Babe?” Your voice hoarse with sleep, you spoke. “You okay?”

Keigo jumped onto the bed, straddling over you and the comforter. 

“(Y/N)!” Oh, his eyes were wet. Soft, gooey tears were streaming down his face as he shakily grabbed your wrists. He pressed them to the scars of his back.

Your eyes went wide as your hands brushed against small, soft feathers. 

“Keigo!” You shouted, sitting up, urging him to turn around so you could take a better look. 

Keigo trembled as he bared his back to you. 

Your breath caught as your hands trailed down his marred flesh.

The scars, old and worn now, had faded a great deal. The charred plain calmed with time, perhaps by your own touch and very much so by Keigo’s own cells and flesh.

But, in the center of his back, where the roots of his wings once were, was something growing anew.

Small, burgundy feathers were growing from spindly looking, down-covered bones and skin.

They were small, nothing like his old wings. More aged, with their darker color. The feathers felt softer as you ran your hands along the largest, no bigger than your hand from wrist to tip.

Keigo shuddered.

“Do... Do they feel like they used to?” You asked, transfixed.

Keigo shakily shook his head, “N-no, they feel less sensitive I think. They feel different.”

...

 As Keigo had healed and changed, so had his body.

His wings never grew to their own old size and power, not even close. They couldn’t support his own body weight, so Keigo never flew again. But, the feathers, wine-colored and almost bruised looking, could be sent to do small tasks, much like his old ones.  

At first, it seemed cruel. After so long and so much, his wings grew back but in such a decrepit form. For days, the two of you waited and waited to see what the final form of his regrowth would be. In the end, at their best, they stretched out to about the span of Keigo’s arms. The feathers weren’t symmetrical either, even at their peak regrowth. Some grew in fluffy and rounded, while others were jagged, sticking out awkwardly from the rest of his form. 

Over time, the inherent disappointment and despondence turned into appreciation.

Because they had come back, it just took time. 

...

With enough time, Keigo wore them proudly, no matter how oddly they stuck out from his marred skin. Keigo’s body was still too damaged to do hero work proper, but he still was kept around.

At the end of the day, the feathers colored like dried blood represented something far larger. If the completely destroyed number two hero could come back to even a fraction of his former, angelic glory, that was something, right?

It was like in the eyes of all things, you were both awarded a physical manifestation of healing. The gnarly wings that grew from Keigo’s body may have been off-putting to some, but to the two of you, it was a testament to it all.

It just took time. 

[obeiii-mee]

Heyo, this is my first time asking (im kinda new to tumblr, so please dont judge) if you would'nt mind, could you do some headcannons (or oneshots, it dosen't matter) with all the demon bros and a MC who is crippled/paralized in their legs, and has to use a wheelchair to get around? Thank you!!

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This is the first time I’ve written about a crippled MC, so I hope I didn’t fuck this up or anything. I found out that being paralysed in both legs is a disability called Paraplegia so that’s how I titled this post. And y’all are too sweet, you are more than welcome anon! I hope I can portray this properly because I am not crippled myself so I’ve opted to do some research before writing this! I hope you like it! Also, I feel inclined to add that none of the brothers would treat you too differently if you happen to have a disability because you’re their human nonetheless :)

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The Brothers with an MC that has Paraplegia and needs a wheelchair to get around:

Lucifer:

-Lucifer was in charge of choosing the final human, exchange student for the program so it’s guaranteed he already knew about your predicament before you even arrived

-Him and Diavolo probably had many meetings concerning your disability before the program could commence, considering that being unable to walk would double the chances of you getting killed since you are obviously more vulnerable

-Not to mention all the treatment you would require

-Lucifer is not well versed in human illnesses and disorders, but he makes sure that he is educated enough on the matter before you get brought down there

-It would not be easy, but he is determined to help you survive your year in DevilDom for the prince’s sake

-First problem of the day was, of course, your wheelchair

-Due to lack of time, Lucifer was unable to instal ramps around the House of Lamentation which meant that for the first couple of weeks, someone would’ve had to help you move around certain parts of the house

-He gave that highly prestigious job to himself because he didn’t trust his brothers and thought they would accidentally drop you and your wheelchair down the stairs

-He talks a lot to you, even at the beginning, because he needs to establish your needs and what he should do to make sure you don’t die for the following year

-You would have to tell him about physical therapy and how most commonly it uses heat, massage and exercise to stimulate your nerves and muscles, making it a great treatment for people with leg paralysis

-Once you two enter a more intimate and personal relationship, it’s more than likely he’ll help you perform those things himself (instead of kidnapping a human doctor from somewhere)

-Lucifer knows you have no problem getting around with your wheelchair by yourself but there are times where he’ll insist to push you along in order to give you a quick break

-I can totally imagine you two strolling around DevilDom and having cosy chats about RAD and your adjustments to DevilDom

-He has a softer side to him that he’s afraid to show most of the time, but he feels so at ease when you’re around, it’s hard for him to hold that part of him hidden from you

-Of course, your safety still remains his primary concern and he acts more like your guardian than Mammon does, even if he was originally supposed to look out for you

-He will accompany you almost anywhere. And if he can’t, he’ll have one or more of his brothers do it. And even then he’s probably lurking nearby, just in case

-He would always be willing to listen about your condition, if you wished to tell him whether you were born with the defect or why you ended up crippled later in life. Either way, he’s all ears

-If you would rather not speak about it, he wouldn’t pry and respect your decision because he knows it’s not his place to pressure you

-Because of your paralysis, it’s quite obvious to demons that you are even weaker (physically speaking) than most humans and that usually puts a target on your back

-Howver, never fear, because Lucifer is pretty quick to put lower rank demons in their place with just a mere stare

-Oop one of them passed out from the fear, haha

-In conclusion, he’s the most responsible when it comes your comfort and safety during your stay

-He makes sure you are always left in good hands and and provides most of the requirements you need

-Y’all should see how his wings puff up when he senses a threat approaching you, he looks like a peacock ready to go on attack lol

Mammon:

-The second born is unsurprisingly a bit of a jerk at first

-He stays really grumpy the whole day of your arrival because he’s stuck babysitting you stupid human

-“Lucifer c’mon, what’s all this workload for? The human can’t even walk by themselves, why do I have to help them out?”

-Wtf Mammon you can’t say shit like that

-Anyways, the following very few days, the only thing he’s thinking about is how much money he could sell your wheelchair for

-He’s the literal incarnation of greed, what else did you expect from him?

-After a while, he starts feeling a bit guilty every time he thinks about it though

-Mammon is gonna take this secret to the grave (laughs in immortal) but he actually really likes pushing you around

-Maybe it’s because it’s a clear indication to everyone around him that you are HIS human, under HIS protection and therefore you trust HIM the most since he was your FIRST MAN

-He will insist on helping you get out of that thing when you need to go to bed and stuff every night and he will get pouty real fast if you let any of his other brothers do it

-You wake up to him trying to roll around in your wheelchair one night at like 3am

-At some point, he stole a wheelchair from the human realm to match with his human. You can guess the consequences of his actions

-I can imagine you having to face a staircase or something at school and Mammon being like:

-“Fuck it, imma carry this fragile human instead; wheelchair and all!”

-Like you were a sack of potatoes or something smh

-Cue his brothers watching him from a distance as he heaves you and basically weight-lifts you up the stairs

-Ok but every now and again, he gets so sad thinking about you not being able to walk, like he starts crying kinda sad

-While you stand there like 😐 “Why are you crying?”

-He’s so quick to help if he senses you’re in danger too

-It’s canon that Mammon is crazy fast if he wants to be so if he has even the slightest impression that your life is threatened, his feet are already moving

-He will charge at your immediate threat at around 120 miles per hour-do not try him when he’s mad

-“The Great Mammon saved the day! C’mon MC, let’s go buy some ice cream. My treat! Ya better be grateful!”

-He says while the demon that tried to eat you lies on the floor with about a dozen broken bones

-Mammon is the second most powerful demon out of all of his brothers, even if he doesn’t resort to violence often

Levi:

-He didn’t really know how to react when you first teleported to DevilDom

-I mean, from the very beginning he considered you to be a human normie but at the same time, he felt bad you were stuck with his brothers for the rest of the year

-I think he would understand you would have an even harder time integrating yourself in their house because of your disability and he knows his siblings are really fucking annoying, always pushing you around and whatnot

-So, he kinda lets you hide in his room quite often

-You guys chill out in there all the time, much to the dismay of the other brothers who also want to spend time with you

-At some point, Levi definitely begged asked Lucifer to let you start online classes with him

-“But wouldn’t it be easier for MC to do online school from home rather than go to R.A.D since there aren’t any ramps or anything around there???”

-“The answer is no Leviathan.”

-“Ugh fine! What a fucking boomer-“

-For some reason, he gets so flustered whenever you ask him to push you around

-He blushes right to the tips of his ears and then he starts sputtering some nonsense that you can’t make out at all

-But he’s more than happy to do it, especially if you guys are going to a convention or if he’s dragging you out to buy new merch

-You two would get along in the sense that Levi realises the struggles you faced all your life were tough to overcome and he believes you are just like him

-Usually left out by other people, ignored even

-He knows you always listen to him ramble on about whatever he is currently obsessed with and how much you check up on him to make sure he never isolated himself

-He wants to do that for you too! Talk to him about your hobbies, please I’m begging you-he feels so bad whenever he’s doing all the talking

-If you ask him to help you with anything (getting something, helping you into bed—that sort of thing), he legally and physically can’t say ‘no’

-And he would get envious enough to stop talking to you for a day or two if you let his brothers do it instead (the second and third born are indeed similar lmao)

-S T A Y I N H I S R O O M, W H E R E Y O U C A N B E P R O T E C T E D !

-He will feel so much more at ease if you’re in his room because to him, that’s his haven

-If you’re in there with him, that means you’re not getting involved in his siblings’ endless and dangerous shenanigans

-Whenever you’re at school, he can’t help but worry about your well-being

-Because you’re human! You’re gonna get killed!! Do you know how much your organs sell on the black market in DevilDom??? 100x more than in the human realm, that’s for sure

-Would they have a black market or would it be a regular market lol

-For some reason, he also likes staying in your wheelchair when you’re not using it

-I think he just takes comfort in knowing it’s something that belongs to you and smells like you and-

-OK Levi, sit back down

-He wouldn’t treat you any differently if you had a disability tbh, but he’d be more concerned because you can’t even run away or anything

-So he’s so fuckin’ relieved when you guys are just vibing in his room

-He could die happy knowing he kept his best friend/ partner safe

Satan:

-Satan would be even more prepared for your arrival than Lucifer would, in a sense

-Out of all of his brothers, he’s most likely to understand and recognise paraplegia (either from studying human illnesses/birth defects/disabilities or from encountering humans with said disability)

-He’s a smart boy, alright?

-Always seems to be the first to notice if you need help or if someone’s bothering you

-Though in the very beginning, he was pretty tempted to just let you get killed to see how angry Lucifer could get

-Seeing dear Luci’s misery brings him great joy 🥰🥰🥰

-Once you two manage to build a very honest and strong relationship, he feels more and more inclined to keep you out of harm’s way

-Pls, he would feel so honoured if you let him push you around (it’s like you asked him to h*ld h*nds or something)

-If you require treatment of any kind, he would be so happy to help

-But in a subtle way...?

-Satan makes it seem so smooth too like he doesn’t mind lending a helping hand when in reality he’s all giddy inside

-*Kinda wants to rub it in his brothers’ faces but at the same no, because he’s definitely the bigger person here

-He wants to know how your wheelchair works

-It’s got all of these neat mechanisms and he wants to learn how they’re constructed because he never had the chance to inspect one before

-He’s such a sweetheart about asking you as well and never pries about your disability unless you start elaborating yourself

-Most of the time, he acts all charming and very gentleman-like

-So people have a hard time spotting and acknowledging the building rage inside of him every time he sees you are threatened by some moronic low rank demon

-Satan’s usually chill when it comes to injuries, unless he can see you’re in horrible pain

-There’s nothing a few spells can’t accomplish

-But when others purposefully try harming you?

-It’s like he loses all the self control he’s been trying to perfect over the centuries and he can’t help himself from at least breaking someone’s rib cage

-Satan’s a weird one because he’s protective of you even though he’s more on the relaxed side when compared to his siblings

-He very much acknowledges that you made it this far in life with your predicament so he doesn’t feel the need to baby you or anything

-You’re strong and he knows this

-It’s one of the many things he clearly loves about you

-That one time you rolled over Mammon’s foot with your wheelchair on purpose, he was wheezing

Asmo:

-Even now, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be stuck inside a wheelchair for the rest of his eternal life

-I mean, he’d obviously still be absolutely fabulous, have you seen him? He’s gonna be gorgeous either way

-But after the two of you meet, he definitely starts thinking about how he takes his feet for granted all the time

-It would be so difficult to complete his daily tasks without the ability to walk or run around

-That’s why he gets sad every time he remembers that’s your reality and on days like that, you’ve noticed he gives you a helluva lot more attention than usual

-He knows you don’t need pity or anything so he’s just making sure his human has all the support they can get

-Paraplegia or not, shopping trips are still a go-go

-He loves buying you clothes! And he loves helping you try them on! Asmo takes it very seriously

-Might have a go at the employees if they’re being rude to you

-You don’t even ask him to, but he subconsciously starts pushing you around himself whenever the two of you are out together

-“MC! Look at that new shop that’s just opened! Isn’t it adorable? We have to check it out!”

-He can’t help it! There’s so many places he wants to visit, he sort of just drags you with him wherever he goes

-Even at home, he always pops out of nowhere to coax you into coming to his room

-Y’all have so many skin routines to do each day

-Like he’s in your room most nights to greet you goodnight and tuck you in, with the rest of his brothers it gets so awkward at times

-Asmo just wants to see you smile, ok? He thinks you have a beautiful smile and laugh and he wants to remind you that you’re marvellous, disability or not

-And if anyone does anything to put an end to your self confidence, he will swiftly put an end to their life

-Please, he’s a pro at ruining lives, he’s been doing it for centuries

-Asmo has such a huge influence over the people in DevilDom, he just needs to make this one post on Devilgram to end said demon’s whole career

-I mean, who is he compared to him, Hmm? So don’t worry MC, scum like that don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you :)

-That one time Mammon tried lifting you up the stairs and Asmo started shrieking, like put them down! Don’t manhandle them like that, poor human :(

Beel:

-I know I sound repetitive, but he would be an overall sweetheart to you no matter the circumstances

-If Mammon is not by your side, then Beel definitely is

-His big, scary aura and figure usually scares off any threat in a 10 mile radius

-Most demons don’t fancy being eaten by the Avatar of Gluttony, ya know?

-Idk why but I feel like he’d be the type to ask for oral consent every time he wanted to push you around

-He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable :(

-Surprisingly also the type to lift you and your wheelchair whenever an obstacle gets in your way

-You basically weigh the same amount as a paper plate compared to him, so he has no problem doing so

-He doesn’t really understand your condition as well as Satan may do, but he’s trying his best

-You mean so much to him and he feels it’s only fair he learns more about your disability as a thank you for what you’ve done for him

-He has a rough time keeping up with you when it comes to stuff like physical therapy because he’s very unfamiliar with it but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna help

-Of course, Beel believes that this is the second best way to show you how much he cares for you besides the obvious ‘I love you’

-Giving you a hand whenever you need his support the most

-That’s his way of saying “I’m not going to let you down. I want you to trust me, the same way I trust you.”

-And knowing him, he will try to do everything in his power to keep you safe and sound

-After a while, you’re bound to notice he’s the first one to pull you out of his brothers’ pranks before you have a chance to get hurt

-Beel is always the one handing you stuff from high places you can’t reach, without teasing you for it like Mammon might do

-Always the first one to remind you to get plenty of rest and to eat enough

-He wants to protect you and his brothers because he knows he failed to do so with Lilith so yeah, he’s a bit overprotective at times

-He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he gets so anxious knowing you’re by yourself

-After a few months of getting accommodated with him, your disability is no longer brought up in the conversation

-Because he doesn’t care that you are crippled and forced to use a wheelchair

-You are part of his family and he loves you no matter what

Belphie:

-He didn’t really care, even when you first met and his hatred for humans was at its very peak

-It didn’t matter that you had a disability

-All that mattered to him at the time was killing you to satisfy that deeply rooted need of vengeance inside of him

-Though he was sort of surprised his brothers didn’t get to you first

-In general, he’s pretty chill about you being crippled in both legs

-It takes too much effort to worry about your well-being 24/7 after all

-Surprisingly, he does keep an eye out for you if his siblings aren’t nearby

-It’s his redemption arc people, he’s trying to be nicer

-But he has such an irritating way of showing his affection for you

-Do not let him push you around

-He’s either going to a) fall asleep after 30 seconds and slump over you in the middle of RAD’s halls

-Or b) be annoying and fling your wheelchair in every direction possible just to piss you off

-He likes messing with you because you give him the best reactions and he thrives on that

-You’ve almost fallen off your wheelchair multiple times because of this asshole

-Not that he’d actually let you fall, he just wants to see how easily he can get you to yell at him

-Speaking of said wheelchair, like Mammon and Levi, he also loves using it when you’re not

-You’ve woken up to him curled up and asleep in that thing quiet often and he’s gotten in trouble over it every time with Lucifer

-But he doesn’t care

-And at this point, I don’t think even he knows whether he’s doing it to get a reaction out of you or because he somehow found a way to make himself comfortable there

-He would low key use you as a mode of transportation every time you go to RAD

-Just clings the damn wheelchair and almost topples both of you over

-“Belphie, there’s nothing stopping you from walking 😐”

-“Shh, just bring me to class and let me nap until then.”

-He doesn’t mention your legs but he still lays his head on your lap often

-Might make you hold him like a bride every time you stroll around the house

-It’s done out of love, I promise 😌😌

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Al~

[inkykeiji]

if i find a way would you walk it with me

characters: dabi, shigaraki tomura

genre: hmm a healthy mixture of fluff and angst, i think

notes: weeee set in the break my bones but act as my spine universe!! ever wonder how dabi’s apology to the reader goes??? how he ‘makes it up’ to her???? well here u go! bit of tomura at the beginning because i couldn’t help myself yikes!! -sigh- poor dabi <33 | title credit: star shopping by lil peep

warnings: uhhhhh one (1) mention of cum in that very first paragraph (nice) but other than that i think it’s all good??? OH oh + use of the word Daddy (u shouldn’t be surprised by this point lol)

words: 3.7k

synopsis:

“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” he says, and to the untrained ear his voice would sound flat and monotonous, maybe even rude, like he doesn’t give a fuck about the words tumbling from his lips. But you—you can hear it, the sheer honesty embedded in his tone, the rawness bleeding into his voice, the way it’s ever-so-slightly rougher around the edges than it normally is.

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It’s rare, nowadays, that you wake up to Tomura still at home. He’s sure to give you goodbye kisses every single morning before he leaves for work—kisses that last way longer than they should, kisses that are slow and messy, that manage to pull little mewls from you and leave you breathless, kisses that more often than not turn into your hands fisting in his dress shirt, little fingers playing with the buttons as you sleepily pull him closer, pleading in soft whimpers for him to fill you with cum before he goes—but he’s rarely still around by the time you actually wake up.

So, naturally, it startles you when you hear his voice, deep and gentle, murmuring that it’s time for you to wake up, princess, as slim fingers brush your hair away from your face, tracing along your cheek and jaw. Rolling onto your back quickly, your eyes snap open and you breathe out his name, heart pounding in excitement as you push yourself up onto your elbows, bleary gaze finding his.

Your near instantaneous reaction pulls a little chuckle from him, crimson eyes shining as they study your face, voice tender when he tells you that he finds your eagerness cute.

A pout settles on your lips briefly at his teasing, evaporating the moment your foggy brain realizes that he’s still home.

“Daddy! What’re you—A-Are you taking me to school today?” you gasp, sitting up a little straighter, a tiny glimmer of optimism in your eye.

And, God, the sheer, unadulterated hope on your face, eyes bright and as they search his, a tentative little smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you anxiously await his answer…it breaks his heart to shake his head slowly—he swears it fucking cracks in his chest when your expression absolutely falls, makes it feel like his ribcage is caving in, yielding under the weight of the ache that settles deep at the very core of his body.

A large hand cups your face, calloused thumb caressing your cheekbone, your eyes closing briefly at the contact, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm.

“No, angel,” he tells you softly, a frown marring his lips. “I have a meeting this afternoon, and it was easier to take the morning off and work from home,”

It’s only partially a lie—he does have a meeting, some fancy lunch with pharmaceutical distributors interested in investing in the drug they’re currently developing—but the ‘work’ he’s doing from home would technically be more productive if done at his office.

Really, he’s worried about how things might go with Dabi. If things get worse, there’s a chance he might just bring you to the stupid lunch with him instead, university be damned.

But you—you can’t help the sudden onslaught of tears that spring into your eyes, emitting a quiet, hurt sound that you nearly choke on as your chest hitches with a tiny sob, head nodding jerkily. Tomura coos, forehead wrinkling in concern as large hands find your hips, pulling you onto his lap and cradling you to his chest.

You shouldn’t be this upset. You know you shouldn’t—not over Tomura not being able to take you to school, and not over Dabi’s sharp words from yesterday. No, Dabi’s words shouldn’t even matter to you, shouldn’t mean anything at all…so why does dread flood your body at the prospect of seeing him, of being stuck in a car with him for a good half hour, at least? Why does it feel like your heart’s turned to corrosive acid, eroding everything around it, when you consider if he actually meant what he said, if that’s how he truly feels?

“I don’t wanna see him, Daddy,” you mumble into his shoulder, eyes squeezing shut tightly against the inexplicable fresh wave of tears the mere thought affords you.

“I know, baby,” Tomura says softly, fingers trailing up and down your spine. “I know,”

He doesn’t want to think about why Dabi’s words, that one simple sentence, have you so torn up.

Nor do you.

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Dabi arrives just as you’re finishing your breakfast, switching between fork and pen as you annotate a last-minute reading for school.

The entire atmosphere morphs the very instant he steps foot in the penthouse, and you swear you can almost see the tension in the air, heavy and suffocating. You wish Tomura were with you, have half a mind to hop up and run into his home office as you glance over at those thick mahogany doors with your lip caught between your teeth, but then Dabi’s heavy footsteps come to a halt, and your gaze snaps back to him.

He stops a few feet away, staring at you with those stupidly pretty sapphire eyes, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black leather jacket.

His face used to be unreadable, but you’ve gotten better at deciphering his expressions, at decoding them to reveal fragments of his thoughts or mood, since you began spending more than eight hours a day with him.

So you know what it means when his jaw clenches twice (annoyed and dreading the interaction), when his front teeth nibble at the inner skin of his lip (unsure and nervous), when he readjusts his stance, nudging his feet just a little further apart (anticipating a verbal blow).

Placing your pen down on your textbook, you turn on your barstool to look at him fully, arms crossed over your chest and legs crossed at the ankles.

You steadily hold his gaze, and he briefly wonders if you’re expecting an apology, what Tomura told you about their discussion late last night, if Tomura told you about their discussion late last night.

“Hey,” he says, wincing at how gravelly his voice sounds and clearing his throat.

A beat of silence passes between you.

“Hi,”

“About yesterday…” he begins, eyebrows pushing together as he trails off, exhaling a harsh breath through his nostrils.

God, he fucking hates this. He hates that he spent most of the morning, the drive to and from going to get your apology gift, rehearsing what he was going to say, hates that it completely vanishes from his mind the moment he sees you, glaring at him in expectation or apprehension—he’s not sure, he can’t tell.

He hates that this is stupidly difficult—definitely more difficult than throwing an apology and gift at you should be—can’t fucking stand the incomprehensible feelings swirling around in his chest, the ones that make him feel like he’s inhaling smoke, choking on air, like he can’t manage to get enough oxygen into his lungs no matter how deeply he inhales.

He swallows, throat dry and scratchy, runs his tongue along the front of his teeth, and tries again.

“About yesterday,” he repeats, more sternly this time. “That was—I probably shouldn’t have said that,”

And the face you make as the word probably leaves his lips—features crumpling and contorting, your mask of passivity disintegrating to reveal pained eyes and a little pout—has him quickly backtracking before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“Definitely—I definitely shouldn’t have said that,” his chest heaves with the force of a heavy sigh, raking a hand aggressively through his hair. “I didn’t mean it. I, uh, I promise,” his eyes bore into yours, his stare so intense it takes everything in your power not to look away.

It’s unsettling in the very least, to hear him this unsure of himself. You think you might even be able to detect the smallest hint of a tremble to his voice, but it only seems to be audible on certain words.

It makes your heart ache in the most inexplicable way, bottom lip jutting out further as your pout deepens. Really, you think you should still be furious at him. Really, you wish you were. You shouldn’t be feeling sympathy for him, not after the way he’s treated you the past few weeks. You shouldn’t have to resist the urge to run to him, to take his face between your hands and tell him that it’s alright, it’s fine, you forgive him—anything just to stop the way his voice quivers ever-so-slightly on the word promise, anything to eradicate the melancholy in his eyes.

“Look—what I’m trying to say, I guess, is—”

The tiniest, softest little mewl sounds from his jacket and he looks down sharply, scowling at it. Eyebrows knitting, you laugh a little, head quirking to the side in confusion.

“Do you…Do you have a cat in your jacket, or something?”

Dabi sighs, shaking his head and murmuring something about how this was totally not your cue, furball as he holds his worn leather jacket open, revealing a small kitten stuffed into one of the inner pockets. He fishes it out gently—it’s so tiny that it fits in the palm of his hand—and holds it out to you, a peace offering.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” he says, and to the untrained ear his voice would sound flat and monotonous, maybe even rude, like he doesn’t give a fuck about the words tumbling from his lips. But you—you can hear it, the sheer honesty embedded in his tone, the rawness bleeding into his voice, the way it’s ever-so-slightly rougher around the edges than it normally is.

You blink rapidly, shaking your head in disbelief with an odd little smile on your face. “Is it—Is it for m-me?”

Dabi rolls his eyes, but there’s a smirk on his face. “Of course, stupid,”

A surprised giggle escapes your lips as you jump up, rushing forward to take the kitten from him and cradling it to your chest, cooing softly. Dabi thinks it’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever seen, entirely powerless to stop the tender look that settles in his eyes as he observes you.

A thick, silky red ribbon tied in a large obnoxious bow adorns the kitten’s neck, a small tag attached to it with Dabi’s messy handwriting scrawled across it: I’m sorry for being an asshole. It’s fucking cheesy, cliché as hell, and you love every single thing about it.

“It’s uh, a Maine Coon, I think,” Dabi shrugs a little, hand rubbing at the back of his neck unsurely as his eyes dart away. “I paid a fucking fortune for him,” he says with a small self-deprecating smirk. “Three times the goddamn regular price,”

Your head snaps up, wide eyes finding his as the kitten gnaws on one of the drawstrings of your—Tomura’s—hoodie. “What?”

He shifts a little under your intense gaze. “Well, yeah, he technically belonged to someone else. Y’know how with those fancy breeders you gotta fill out those massive application forms and then wait for like, two years and all that bullshit,” he waves a hand in explanation as his voice trails off.

“Y-You paid six thousand dollars for this cat?”

“Just over,” he nods. “Plus a forty-five minute argument with the breeder, all for that damn furball, so you better fucking appreciate him, cause that guy was a jackass,”

Silence blankets the room again. You’re looking at him weirdly, and it’s starting to make his skin crawl, anxiety beginning to rise in his throat as he stares back at you, subconsciously holding his breath. Are you still angry? Do you not like the cat, was it the wrong breed? It was a cat you wanted, wasn’t it? Was this too stupid? Was it too much? Was it not enough? Tomura’s frequent yet random gifts are hard to compete with, but, fuck, he tried his best. He wanted to get you something that he knew you really wanted—he could’ve sworn he’s heard you go off on a tangent about how much you love cats, how you’ve never been allowed to have one before, at least three times in the short time he’s known you. He considered getting you the standard luxury shit women are ‘supposed’ to like, or whatever—he isn’t really into that gendered bullshit—but Tomura spoils you with these things so often and, well, they didn’t really feel like an apology.

Tingles flood your veins, feeling like sparks are coursing through your entire body, the thought of someone doing something so—so considerate making you feel giddy at first, then guilty. How could you not believe him, not believe his apology is sincere, when this gift proves to you just how attentive he actually is? That he doesn’t simply tune out your mindless rambling as he drives you to school, or when he lets you rest your head against his thigh after a long day? You’ve lamented to Dabi countless times about how you’ve always wanted a kitten—a Maine Coon in particular—and, knowing it’s the one thing Tomura hasn’t gotten for you, wouldn’t get for you…

Hastily placing the kitten on the island, you leap up, moving so quick he barely has time to register what the hell’s going on before you barrel straight into him, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. The force of your unexpected hug causes him to stumble back a few steps, knocking a soft “Oof,” out of him.

His body freezes as you press up against him—you’ve never been this close before. A hand slides up his neck and into the hair at the base of his scalp—an automatic reaction, something you’re so used to doing with Tomura that it’s become second nature now. You don’t even realize you’re doing it.

But Dabi does.

Your touch burns, fingertips searing into his flesh in the most exquisite way, has him instantly craving more as his head droops just a little further, allowing you more access to move, your fingers instinctively combing through the soft, inky hair at the back of his skull. He wants to feel your touch all over his body, branded into his skin. Hours from now, he’ll still be able to feel it, still be able to feel the scorching warmth from your little hands scathing his flesh, still be able to feel your little fingers tangling in his hair.

Your sweet scent invades the space around him, overwhelms his senses, and he idly wonders if you taste as sweet as you smell, if the rest of your skin, your body, would feel as scalding as your hands do against his bare skin, if—

You squeeze yourself closer, body pressed flush against his, and his mind finally snaps into action, recovering from his initial shock and wrapping both arms around your waist, responding to your squeeze with one of his own.

“Thank you so much, Dabi,” you whisper, lips grazing his neck as you speak, an involuntary shiver coursing through his body. “I already love him,”

“Am I forgiven, princess?” his voice is low, rumbling in his chest and reverberating off of yours, chin resting atop your head.

A pause.

“Yeah,” you nod, eyelashes fluttering a little on his skin. “I—I’m sorry, too,”

“You don’t—”

“No,” you cut him off softly, and he can feel you nuzzling your face against him shyly, his arms squeezing you again in silent encouragement. “I overreacted. I just, um,” you stop, swallowing thickly as you struggle with the words. “I—We were making progress; or at least, I thought we were making progress—What I mean is, I just want t-to be friends with you,” you admit quietly, thankful that your face is buried in his chest, hiding your burning cheeks from his eyes.

He doesn’t respond—not with words, anyway. He doesn’t need to—his actions speak louder than words ever could. Lips press against the crown of your head, first gently, then firm, scattering a few kisses across your scalp.

The kitten knocks your pen off the island, it’s clattering against the hardwood startling the two of you, and you reluctantly break apart. He thinks it should be awkward—No, it should definitely be awkward, when he just dropped several unwarranted kisses to the crown of your head—but it isn’t. He waits for it to come, surprised when all that seems to remain is that same pleasant warmth as he watches you scold the kitten playfully, bending down to pick up the pen and gently tapping it against the kittens nose.

Your giggles, ringing out around the empty penthouse, are the most precious sounds he’s ever witnessed. Thoughts invade his mind, belatedly realizing that he’d do just about anything to hear you giggle like that again, soft and innocent and full of delight. The unfamiliar feeling of contentment settles in his chest, makes it swell so much it’s almost painful, thrumming through his veins and alighting his body.

Later, he’ll be pissed at himself for letting his guard down so easily, for completely losing control of his thoughts and actions, for becoming so fucking soft around you. But for now, he allows himself to bask in the feeling, just for a few moments before those heavy mahogany doors inevitably creak open.

“What should we name him?” your eyes are bright as you back at him, a cute excited smile on your face, lashes fluttering a little as you wait for his answer.

We. We.

And he hates the way his heart skips a beat at that one, tiny two letter word. He hates the way it makes his stomach swoop, makes more unknown feelings—sensations he’s never experienced before—explode in his chest, hates the way that stupid little word pulls a large, genuine smile from him entirely without his permission, a chuckle of disbelief passing through his lips.

We.

“I dunno, princess,” he responds gruffly, finally finding his voice.

“How about…” you stop, humming and closing an eye as you think, little tongue poking at your cheek in concentration.

Dabi isn’t sure he’s ever seen a more adorable sight in his entire life, and he has to physically restrain himself from marching right up to you and kissing you until you can’t fucking breathe, heels digging into the hardwood and hands curling into trembling fists as his body goes rigid.

“Isaac? Or, oh! Clarke?”

Isaac Asimov or Arthur C. Clarke, two of his favourite authors.

And, fuck, he can’t help the hearty laugh that bubbles up in his chest at the realization, pleasant tingles of warmth shooting through his veins again—more intensely this time, feeling like tiny shocks bursting throughout his body, his whole figure buzzing, high off your presence.

“Both are cute,”

“Yeah, but do you have a favourite?”

Later, he’ll lay awake in bed tonight, sheets cold and empty as he listens to the muffled sounds of Tomura’s ridiculously massive bed slamming against the wall while he forces the most beautiful sounds from your lips—later, Dabi will think about that sentence, those seven words, uttered so gently, so sincerely from your soft lips as you stared at him in earnest, genuinely interested in his answer. Later, he’ll think about why his opinion matters so much to you—if his opinion matters to you, or if he’s just desperately hoping it does, if he’s overthinking this entire situation, why the name of a dumb overpriced cat matters this much to him…

“I like Isaac,”

Your eyes soften, smile stretching even wider as your gaze flits to the tiny fluff ball now curled in your lap, small hand petting its head gently as it begins to fall asleep.

“Yeah,” you murmur, watching your hand’s rhythmic motions, the kitten beginning to purr loudly. “I like Isaac, too,”

Tomura reemerges then, both of your gazes snapping towards him. He observes the two of you, scarlet eyes slow and careful as they scan the situation, finally landing on the small ball of fur sleeping soundly on your thighs. There’s an odd look in his eyes—something you’ve never quite seen before, and it makes your heart drop.

“Look, Daddy,” you say softly, holding up the sleepy kitten to show him. “Dabi got me a kitty!”

The weird, undecipherable look on Tomura’s face evaporates in an instant as his eyes connect with yours, features softening.

“That’s great, baby,” he says as he walks towards you, coming to stand behind you and placing a large hand on your head. You hum a little, eyes closing at the contact. “Looks like we’ll have to go out tonight and get kitty supplies, huh,”

Eyes snapping open, your head falls back, resting against his stomach as you stare up at him. “Me and you? Just us?” he nods, and you gasp, face absolutely lighting up. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he laughs a little, fondness settling in his eyes as he gazes down at you. “I’ll pick you up after class today, and we’ll go straight away. We can’t let poor Isaac go hungry now, can we?” Ruby eyes flit up as he speaks, hardening as they connect with sapphire. He holds Dabi’s gaze until the other man nods his understanding.

You’re so excited you don’t even realize you never told Tomura the kitten’s name. But it doesn’t matter—not in that moment, anyway, not when he tells you he’s decided to take the rest of the day off after the lunch meeting, to spend it with his baby and his baby’s baby. Not when you haven’t had a night alone with him in what feels like forever.

Tomura should be happy that it all worked out, right? He should be glad that he doesn’t have to find other arrangements, should feel relieved that you and Dabi smoothed things over, shouldn’t he? He is, isn’t he?

“Go get your schoolbag, sweetheart,” he instructs softly, tapping you on the nose. “You’ll be late if you don’t leave soon,”

You obey immediately, slipping off the barstool with the kitten cradled in your arms, explaining that you’re going to quickly ‘kitten-proof’ Tomura’s absurdly large bathroom and lock Isaac in there. For his own safety while you’re away at school, you say.

He watches you go, waits for you to disappear around the corner, before turning back to his colleague.

“Really Dabi, a fucking cat?”

Dabi bristles, exhaling slowly as he holds his boss’s gaze, and raises his eyebrows. “But she’s happy, isn’t she?”

[rkived]

━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 03 | JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader 

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) time jumps, mention of divorce, blood mention ((but like nothing serious)), forced kisses, just sad stuff like this is sad guys lol

↳ WORD COUNT: 8.6k

↳ EXCERPT: ‘‘Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on. He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.’’

↳ A/N: getting this chapter out has been ((a pain in the ass)) tough !! & cp was supposed to end with this chapter but that was not realistic at all lmao but i do hope u like this n i’ll try to get pt4 quickly as possible <3 thx

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 

‘‘Okay everyone, let’s switch to the upward facing dog!’’

You really don’t want to be here. There’s a lot of stuff running through your head right now that are more important than focusing on yoga positions. You wish you were thinking about grocery shopping or paying that month’s bills. 

Instead, you’re still stuck on the downward facing dog as your mind tells you you’re an idiot, a homewrecker and most importantly, a terrible friend. 

‘‘Y/N, upward facing dog!’’ The instructor, Namjoon, reminds you with a gentle smile as he notices you haven’t switched positions like the rest of the class. You nod and smoothly place your body as he had taught in the classes before.

The only reason why you came to your Saturday morning yoga class was because even with all that happened last night, you wanted to feel a sense of normality. Like you’re capable of going on about your life like nothing had happened.

That’s selfish and stupid because as much as you tried, every single moment since you woke up revolved around last night.

From the moment you opened your eyes, noticing Sunhi wasn’t sleeping next to you, snuggled into your chest like you had last remembered her to be before she fell asleep and you following soon after. 

And as your heart beat faster at the thought of finding her in her dad’s arms instead, watching Saturday morning cartoons on the T.V in your living room; you instead found the place neat and tidy. The messy pillows on your couch where placed like they hadn’t even been moved to begin with, like no one besides you had been in the apartment the night before. 

Somehow he managed to do all of this without you even noticing. You wondered at what time he woke up, cleaned up, took Sunhi without making any fuss and left, all before your 7 AM alarm could wake you up.

He even made you breakfast too. Some eggs, bacon and toast. 

‘‘Y/N, your legs are touching the mat.’’ Namjoon notes as he stands in front of you, ‘‘Let’s focus, okay?’’

You nod once again, though this time a little more embarrassed. If only you could explain to your instructor why you’re so distracted. 

No messages either. No text explaining why he had to leave so early. No sticky note placed on your fridge door about how he made you breakfast. No slight shake to your sleeping body to let you know that he’d be taking Sunhi. Nothing. 

Would’ve you liked that, though? 

You could say yes because he’s your friend and it’s only fair since you took care of his daughter the night before. 

But it’s not right, because friends don’t kiss each other, let alone the way you had let him kiss you and touch you while his daughter slept in your room and his wife waited for both of them at home.

There was a war going on inside you between your brain and your heart. 

Your heart, being a weak ass bitch, was telling you about how exciting everything was. How nice it felt to have Jungkook tell you that he wanted to be with you, that he no longer felt happy with his wife, how perfectly his lips encaptured your own and how you could still feel them on you. 

But your brain, obviously being the logical one between the two, reminded you about how wrong it was. You had never wanted to be placed in a position of being ‘‘the other woman’’. That even though you might not like Jiwoo and had spent years hoping your friend would someday wake up and realize this too, this didn’t feel right. 

‘‘Alright, let’s drink some water now.’’ Namjoon announces, clasping his hands together and showing off that dimple that most ─if not all─ of the students went heart eyes over. 

You take the time to check your phone instead, you don’t need the water because you didn’t do shit anyway. There’s no text from Minji, who you’re scared will somehow, by the grace of everything that’s holy, find out about what you did. No text from Jungkook either and you’re wondering why he hasn’t bothered to send one. 

Instead, there’s a text from Taehyung and you mutter a curse. 

[8:34 AM] Taehyung: hey y/n! i’m sure you’re in your yoga class rn but i wanted to see if maybe you’d be up for lunch at my place? i’ll try and cook something nice :) 

Ah, of course that throughout all of this you forgot about Taehyung. 

The sweet guy who had stuck around only for you to pay him back by kissing your best friend, the one Taehyung had to pretend wasn’t bothered by his interruption that night a few weeks ago. 

God, you do have a way to fuck things up for yourself. 

You don’t know how long you stood there thinking what to reply to him, but it definitely was for a few minutes because you only came back to reality once you heard your name being called once by the instructor.

‘‘Y/N,’’ Namjoon repeats and you look over at him with a puzzled look, ‘‘we’re starting again, if you’d like to join us.’’ There’s that smile again. Bless his patience, you wonder if he’s actually this calm because of yoga or he’s just really good at pretending. 

You look back down at your phone, the screen displaying a text that’s still waiting to be replied to. 

‘‘I uhm─I gotta go, sorry.’’ You quickly reply, making Namjoon look at you with wide eyes, but he makes no effort to stop you either. 

And as quickly as you can, you collect your belongings before you’re heading out the door without saying goodbye. 

Either you quit yoga altogether or just apologize to Namjoon like a grownup next Saturday. Whatever it is, you’re not thinking about what decision to make about your little extracurricular right now. 

There’s only so much you can handle at a time.

Jungkook is lucky that Jiwoo works Saturday mornings because with her away, he’s able to enter his house without having to sneak in. 

He opens the door wide, making way for him and a slightly awake Sunhi in his arms. He drops the keys on the counter without caring about the noise it makes. He doesn’t even have to pretend like he’s walking on glass, his boots are allowed to hit the wooden floor without a care in the world. 

The place doesn’t look much different from what he had left it like the day before. There’s only a dirty glass on the sink, a product of Jiwoo’s daily breakfast smoothies and since she’s always in a rush she never has time to clean it up. 

‘‘Are you still sleepy, pumpkin?’’ he quietly asks his daughter and she nods, he doesn’t blame her since he’s the one who woke her up at 6 AM. ‘‘Alright, I’ll take you to your bed,” he says, a kiss on her head following shortly after. 

He wonders if Jiwoo enjoyed herself last night. No daughter and no husband, sounds like an ideal night for her. It’s not like she was worried about their whereabouts either, considering she hadn’t even bothered to text him wondering why they hadn’t come home. 

If Jungkook’s supposed to feel guilty, he isn’t. 

He’s heard stories before about how there’s a voice in your head constantly reminding you about what you did and how wrong it is. That he’ll be unable to sleep knowing he cheated on his wife while she lies next to him. That he won’t be able to look at her again without feeling remorse all over him.

And when Jiwoo returns home at noon, there’s none of that at all. He offers her a nod of acknowledgement once she enters the living room to find him sitting with his laptop, watching through old videos that he took years back. 

She puts her index finger up, telling him to give her a minute. She’s on a phone call with a friend of hers that Jungkook can only conclude is Hyeri, who he probably met at some point but can’t remember what her face looked like. 

‘‘I know! Like, why do you have to be such a bitch about it? We get that you’re sucking the boss’s dick in private, so you might as well─’’

Jiwoo’s voice is too distracting and so, Jungkook places his earphones in to hear what this video’s audio is about. Once he does, he hits play and the audio is loud enough to drown out Jiwoo’s whining. 

‘‘Guess who came to see you, Pumpkin?’’ 

Jungkook gasps as he remembers this was part of a series of videos he was supposed to show Sunhi once she was old enough to understand them. He recorded a few until he was drowning in work to even grab his camera again. It saddens him that he wasn’t able to continue.

He decides he’ll show them to her later because right now Sunhi is too busy playing with her dolls inside her room to even pay attention to him.

‘‘It’s auntie Y/N! And she came bearing gifts,’’ Jungkook smiles, switching the focus on you ‘‘is that a Fisher Price Taco Tuesday toy set that I see?’’ he wonders in a fake curious tone as you look at him with narrowed eyes ‘‘I wonder how she knew you wanted that, Sunhi. It’s not like your dad had it on his Amazon wishlist or anything.’’

‘‘Very funny.’’ You mumble, handing him the toys so you could go ahead and grab a tiny three-month-old Sunhi from the bed ‘‘Aren’t you the cutest little bean in this entire world? Aren’t you?’’ you coo at the little girl, who looks at you with wide eyes and you’re forced to blink a couple of times because she looks just like him. 

‘‘Of course she is, she’s my spitting image!’’ Jungkook confirms your thought as he grabs Sunhi’s cheek gently with his fingers and squeezes, making the baby giggle.

You side-eye him and then focus your attention back on the baby in your hands, ‘‘No, you’re not, Sunhi. Your daddy is not cute at all.’’ 

‘‘You’re gonna make me put this camera down and have a discussion about this.’’ 

Jungkook chuckles at the footage, noticing how he made you smile because of his comment. The video isn’t long, it’s mostly you cooing to a then tiny Sunhi, giggling at the way you would nuzzle your nose into her belly as Jungkook laughed behind the camera. 

‘‘Jungkook, look at her!’’ You practically squeal as Sunhi grabs your thumb with her little hand ‘‘Oh my gosh, I think I’m gonna cry.’’ 

He laughs as he does a close-up of his daughter holding on to your finger, until he hears the little sniffle you let out and the camera is now focused on you silently wiping a tear away. 

‘‘Wait, you’re actually crying?’’ Jungkook asks in disbelief and you turn to look at him to find the lens focused on you ‘‘Sunhi, you’re Auntie Y/N loves you so much that she’s crying! How cute.’’ 

‘‘You’re so dumb, seriously.’’ you mumble with a frown, going back to gawking at the baby still holding on to your thumb. 

Jungkook sighs, ‘‘I’m gonna have to bleep that out, y’know?’’

You laugh and shrug your shoulders, caressing Sunhi’s stomach. Jungkook whispers ‘cute’, so soft that you’re unable to hear it.

Once it ends, Jungkook is able to see his smiling face as it reflects on the black screen and it’s only then he realized he’d been grinning the whole time. Now his ears are filled with Jiwoo talking over the phone and his smile goes back to a straight line. 

Jungkook closes the video and clicks on the next one, hoping that it’s one that involves you as well. He’s unable to press play because Jiwoo is suddenly standing in front of him, arms crossed and she’s no longer talking on her phone. 

‘‘Yes?’’ He asks, removing an earbud to show her she has his full attention.

‘‘So, where were you last night?’’ 

Jungkook’s slightly surprised that she cares. He tends to forget there’s still some humanity left in her after all, ‘‘At Y/N’s.’’ he answers with a shrug, eyes going back to stare at the screen of his laptop. 

Jiwoo scoffs and he’s forced to look at her again, eyebrow slightly raised. He hopes she doesn’t start because it’s too early and it’s a Saturday. But Jiwoo doesn’t like taking breaks like he does.

‘‘I thought you said that she wasn’t going to be able to take care of Sunhi on Fridays.’’ There’s bitterness in her tone, ‘‘so, what were you doing there?’’ 

Jungkook understands where Jiwoo’s curiosity comes from, but it’s strange. She’s never been the type to ask where he’s been, what he’s doing with Sunhi while she’s not around ─which is practically all the time─ and doesn’t care for your business either. 

‘‘I just stopped by.’’ Jungkook mutters, stroking the nape of his neck in an attempt to not seem suspicious, ‘‘We hung out and Sunhi fell asleep, she didn’t wanna come back home.’’ 

And that’s true, Jiwoo narrows her eyes at him as if she’s debating whether or not to believe him and the excuse of their sleeping daughter. She doesn’t know Sunhi that well to conclude if it’s possible or not. 

‘‘And what, did you all three sleep together in the same bed? Playing family, maybe?’’ 

Jungkook looks at her in disbelief. This is a first. 

‘‘What?’’ Is all he’s able to muster because he’s genuinely shocked at her accusation. 

Jiwoo rolls her eyes, ‘‘Oh, please. Like I’m going to buy that hanging out bullshit.’’ Jungkook looks like a deer stuck in headlights and she chuckles, ‘‘Is what I give to you not enough?’’ 

‘‘I─what are you on about?’’ 

He figures this is her picking a fight because he wasn’t around yesterday to attend her needs like he usually does every Friday night. But Jungkook’s mind is quick to remind him of what he did and it’d be really ironic if he denies Jiwoo’s accusations, that for the first time are actually true. 

‘‘I carried around that girl for nine months, ruined my body because of her, all for you to pick someone else over me?’’ Jiwoo’s voice is raised a little higher and Jungkook can’t help but look over at Sunhi’s bedroom door and hope his daughter is not listening to anything coming from the living room. ‘‘I knew I should’ve never trusted her, I always knew your friendship with her was fucking weird.’’

Jungkook doesn’t want to raise his voice either. It’s not going to get them anywhere. But he can’t stand the way she’s speaking about his daughter and you, she’s never crossed those boundaries before. 

‘‘Are you insane? How can you talk about your daughter like she’s nothing?’’ Jungkook spats out, ‘‘I’ve always been thankful for what you did, I know the shit you went through to bring her into this world.’’ 

But Jiwoo doesn’t care about how loud she’s being, ‘‘You’re so thankful you pay me back by fucking your best friend? While I’m alone over here waiting for you to come back?’’

Jungkook has to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a second, before he loses it. 

He clears his throat, ‘‘Jiwoo, I have always chosen you. Always. I did back when I was a sophomore, I did it when I asked you to marry me, and I did it when I chose you to be the mother of my children. So, I don’t know what─’’

‘‘I don’t give a flying fuck if you chose me! I was supposed to be all of that either way, Jungkook.’’ She interjects.

Was she, though? Of course, she was his girlfriend then. It would make sense that she’d be the one to end up marrying him, having his kids and living the happy life everyone guaranteed he’d live alongside her. 

But he hasn’t been thinking about the choices he ended up taking back then. Instead, he’s been wondering about the ‘what if’s and Jiwoo isn’t in any of them. 

Jungkook’s been daydreaming for months now about how different his life would’ve turned out if he had never asked the pretty girl in his class all those years back and instead had focused his attention somewhere else. Or someone else.. 

‘‘Are you going to answer me?’’ Jiwoo’s stern voice brings him back to the reality he hates, ‘‘Were you going to pick me or was I a second choice?’’ She slowly asks, giving him an opportunity to digest every single word she spoke. 

‘‘You weren’t a second choice,’’ he mumbles and his gaze has faltered and instead focused back on the screen of his laptop. Clicking on a video randomly, trying to distract himself from the situation at hand. Hoping that whatever he says is enough for Jiwoo to leave him alone. 

It doesn’t help that the video automatically plays and it’s you on the first frame, a big smile as you hold Sunhi towards the camera, making her wiggle in your arms. 

What if. 

‘‘Show me that you love me, then.’’

The video still plays as Jungkook looks back at Jiwoo standing right in front of him, her arms are still crossed, but the look on her face is different. Her brows are no longer furrowed and Jungkook might be wrong, but he thinks her eyes look glossy. 

He doesn’t act quickly enough and she takes the laptop from him, closing it before she can even notice what is it that has garnered his attention. Jiwoo straddles his lap and he jumps slightly at the action, placing her arms around his neck as she looks at him with innocent eyes. 

If he didn’t know her, he would’ve believed them. 

‘‘Jiwoo, let’s not─’’ 

‘‘I missed you yesterday,’’ she interjects in a whisper ‘‘show me that you love me right now.’’ 

Her lips latch onto his neck, biting and sucking on the skin as he tries to wriggle himself out of her hold, but her hands push at his chest so he can stay still. 

‘‘C’mon,’’ she mumbles ‘‘show me.’’ She’s pleading by then.

He feels nothing. There’s no electricity in Jiwoo’s kisses. No tingles on his back, no goosebumps on his skin, no fireworks going off. If anything, everytime her lips meet his skin it feels bitter, like they don’t belong there at all. 

‘‘Daddy, come please!’’ The muffled voice of Sunhi inside her room interrupts the one-sided moment and Jungkook is silently thanking her. 

Jiwoo doesn’t make an effort to move as she keeps kissing on all the exposed skin he has to offer. Jungkook sighs in frustration as he forces her off him, making her land beside him with an astonished expression.

Her hands tighten into fists as she looks at him like he’s gone insane, ‘‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’’ She asks in disbelief.

Jungkook blinks, ‘‘Did you─?’’ He gestures with his finger over to his daughter’s room, ‘‘Sunhi is calling me.’’ 

His wife scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest again, ‘‘Of course, you always go running when it comes to her.’’ 

Contrary to his belief, there is no humanity left in Jiwoo at all. She’s just really good at pretending like she cares so she can get her way. This is the last time Jungkook falls for this trick.

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He repeats this action a few times, to stammer something out. Anything. But there’s nothing besides the expecting silence of his wife as she chuckles incredulously. Jungkook ignores this and turns around, a second away from opening Sunhi’s bedroom door─

‘‘You’re a waste of a husband.’’ Jiwoo sneered. 

His hand drops from the door handle and he sighs, taking a deep breath in and out.

He looks back at her, ‘‘You know what, Jiwoo? I wasn’t lying when I said you weren’t my second choice.’’ he informs and her eyebrow raises up ‘‘But you aren’t my first choice now either.’’

Jiwoo scowls and heaves in anger, ready to let hell loose on him ‘‘I knew that who─’’

‘‘It’s Sunhi,’’ he states and Jiwoo closes her mouth before she can even finish her sentence. ‘‘Ever since I knew you were pregnant with her, she’s been at the top of my list and she’ll always be there. I don’t care what you do or say to me, I really don’t. You don’t love me, Jiwoo.’’

At the accusation, her eyes soften and she’s standing up to argue that it’s not true, but Jungkook raises his hand in a motion to stop her. 

‘‘You don’t love me and I don’t love you.’’ 

Jungkook expected her to start yelling at him like she usually did, but Jiwoo’s rendered speechless on her spot as she stares at him, blinking rapidly. 

‘‘I don’t love you,’’ he repeats ‘‘and I haven’t loved you for a while now. I don’t remember the last time my heart raced up when I saw you or when I stopped enjoying kissing you. And I’m sorry, because I should’ve told you instead of pretending like I did.’’ 

Jiwoo’s motionless as she takes all of his words in. 

‘‘But I did it for her because I didn’t want her to hate me if you ever left. But that was a dumb idea because you don’t care about Sunhi. And frankly, I doubt she cares about you either. She never speaks about you, never asks about you, she’s used to you not being here even if you sort of are.’’ 

Jungkook places his hand over the doorknob once again and Jiwoo grimaces.

‘‘I should’ve never begged you to come back. I should’ve thought about what you wanted and it’s always been clear to me what that is,’’ Jungkook swallows the knot he feels in his throat ‘‘and it’s never been Sunhi or me.’’

‘‘Jungkook.’’

He thinks she’s about to tell him how sorry she is. That she’ll recognize how heartless she’s been and how she not only failed him, but failed their daughter too. Maybe beg for a final try at their relationship as she promises she’ll change this time. 

Jungkook hums and spares her one last glance.

Jiwoo has a stoic expression on her face and she speaks under her breath, but clear enough for him to hear, ‘‘Sign the papers when you get them.’’

You expect Minji to just jump at you any minute now because if looks could kill, you’d be dead already. Maybe you should’ve pretended like you weren’t home and let Minji knock on your door until she’d give up, but even you knew better than that. 

It was better to face her now than to deal with her accumulated wrath later.

‘‘When were you going to tell me?’’ She suddenly asks and it takes you by surprise because it had been way too silent since you had let her in.

Minji works like a predator, she attacks when you least expect it and right now you definitely feel like you’re about to be eaten. 

‘‘I─uh…’’ 

She sighs and you can see the disappointment in her face, ‘‘Were you going to tell me at all?’’ 

You nod instead, not trusting yourself enough to speak at the moment. 

It had been a week since the event in your living room and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair as you stare at your friend, who’s sitting on the couch where everything went down. 

‘‘Then why did I have to find out through Taehyung?’’ She asks in a disappointed tone. 

You figured he’d tell her. It’s not like you asked him not to do so, but you had silently prayed that the universe was on your side on this one and by some unknown reason they wouldn’t bump into each other at work and Minji, like she usually did, wouldn’t ask him about you. Because if she did, then he’d have to explain how you had broken the news that you had made out with your best friend; the one Minji despised with her soul. 

A sigh escapes your lips as you lower your head with shame.

You were supposed to tell her, but every time you took your phone and tried to dial or text her, your nerves got the best of you and ended up chickening out, promising that you’d do it the next day. Then the next day. And the next day. 

It’s not like you’re scared of Minji─well, maybe only slightly. But you know the effort she put into getting you to go out and meet someone new, someone that’s not married and not a father. She’s known Taehyung for so long, probably even told him how much of a good girl you were to convince him to take you out, only for you to end up throwing all of that in the trash like it was nothing. 

Minji’s also spent years pushing you to move on from your friendship with Jungkook. Not just because she doesn’t like him, but because she’s always felt like he’s held you back while he’s made his way in life. You’ve stuck behind him making sure that he’s okay and happy, forgetting about yourself in the process. 

‘‘I’m not angry at you,’’ she speaks softly, making you look up at her with surprise. ‘‘I just─He gave you a second chance, Y/N. Why did you say no?’’ Her words are laced with curiosity and you know that she’s asking because even Taehyung wasn’t able to give her an answer to this question. 

Your bottom lip trembles and you’re trying your hardest not to burst into tears in front of him. You can’t and you won’t. How even dare you to do that? 

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ you whisper and your eyes shift down to the wooden floor of his apartment. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’ You repeat, knowing it’s not enough.

Taehyung gulps and his crossed arms quickly fall to his sides as he realizes that, whatever anger he felt when you told him about what you did, was no longer there the moment he saw how genuinely apologetic you looked. 

‘‘I’m an idiot, I know.’’ You continue, rubbing your clammy hands into the material of your leggings and it does nothing to dry them. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’

He knows he shouldn't be so easily swayed by your apology, but he can’t help but want to cradle you in his arms. And when he does, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you gasp because you weren’t expecting this. 

You expected anger, insults thrown out about how you’re a slut and being kicked out of his apartment with him telling you to never contact him again. 

Taehyung’s still sweet even when his heart is getting broken. 

‘‘It’s okay,’’ he whispers into your hair as one of his hands runs up and down your back ‘‘we can work this out, yeah?’’ 

You bite the tip of your tongue as you take his words in, feeling your heart speeding up even faster than what it was when you spilled everything out on him. Maybe you would’ve preferred him getting angry than his current reaction.

‘‘It’s not like we were exclusive, right?’’ Taehyung chuckles, but it feels like he’s convincing himself that that was the reason as to why it happened. ‘‘Let’s forget it, seriously.’’

A shaky sigh comes out of your mouth as your arms, that hadn’t reciprocated his hug, gain the strength to separate yourself from him. He looks taken aback, but he’s waiting for you to reply in agreement because, yes, you could work this out if you try hard enough. 

But that’s not realistic. Pretending like you never kissed Jungkook is not realistic at all, because it’s sad to admit that you won’t be able to kiss Taehyung again without thinking about your best friend in the back of your head as you’re reminded that not only did you let him kiss you, but you reciprocated and not only did you reciprocate, but you liked it a little too much. 

‘‘Y/N,’’ he speaks up, snapping you from your thoughts,‘‘please, let’s just try.’’ He silently asks─no, begs. 

The barking of his dog, Yeontan, startles you as you come to stare at the little dog at the feet of his owner, who at the moment isn’t interested to see what he wants. You never told Taehyung, but the teacup pomeranian was extremely overprotective of him. 

He’s barking at you like you’re hurting his owner and maybe you aren’t physically doing any damage, but you know that you’re about to break his heart all over again.

‘‘I-I…,’’ you blink as you try to focus on the man in front of you and not the dog on the ground, ‘‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’’ 

Yeontan’s barks increase and Taehyung is at a loss for words to beg you to stay and talk things through. You can still hear the dog’s incessant barking as you make your way down the hall and that’s when the tears you were holding finally fall down. 

‘‘Taehyung’s a nice guy, Y/N. He forgave you and you just left?’’ Minji asks, disbelief in her tone. ‘‘I thought you liked him.’’

‘‘I do!’’ You finally speak up. You’re sure of it, you like Taehyung. Your friend gives you a puzzled look because she really can’t understand you right now. ‘‘I like Taehyung, I really do,’’ you mutter, ‘‘but it’s not fair to him.’’ 

Minji scrunches her face up because there’s only one reason you’re thinking that way. She’s tired of this narrative, it’s old and overdone and it should’ve ended years ago.

She lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘You love him, don’t you?’’ Another question that takes you by surprise.

‘‘No, I just─’’

Minji holds her finger up, interrupting you, ‘‘I’m talking about Jungkook.’’ 

This is the attack. Not the other questions she had asked you regarding her old family friend. Not the unannounced arrival to your apartment on an uneventful Saturday morning where you had chosen to stay in bed instead of facing the peaceful yoga instructor. Not the glaring looks she had been giving you for the last minutes.

And if you weren’t ready for any of those, this one definitely takes the prize. 

‘‘I-I of course I love him,’’ you mumble, ‘‘he’s my friend.’’

Minji smirks as her eyebrows raise, ‘‘No, I’m asking if you’re in love him.’’ 

You’re sure that the feelings that you’ve had for Jungkook have always been platonic. You do love him because he’s your friend and you’re supposed to love your friends. But you know that the love that you have for him is very different from the one you have for anyone else. It might be the history between you two. You’ve been with him through it all, cheering from the sidelines as he accomplishes one milestone after the other. 

‘‘Be honest with me,’’ Minji demands, ‘‘are you in love with Jungkook?’’ she asks once again.

Your eyes well up and your bottom lip is trembling as you look back at your intimidating best friend because your silence is deafening and you’re expecting her to throw the last blow. You think you deserve it. Minji has so much she wants to say, but you look so dejected and she figures that you might’ve just realized it. 

‘‘Hey, it’s okay.’’ She comes up to you quickly, crouching down as she looks up at the tears rolling down your reddened cheeks. ‘‘Y/N, it’s okay.’’ 

You’ve been trying to tell yourself the same thing the past few days. 

It’s okay that you kissed your best friend. It’s okay that you’ve slowly and silently started harbouring feelings for him. It’s okay that you just realized you’ve been in love with him for a while now. It’s okay that you’ve been resenting the fact that he didn’t choose you all those years ago. It’s okay that you take care of and love his daughter like she’s yours. 

But...

‘‘No, it’s not.’’ You cry, ‘‘I can’t do that, Minji, he’s not mine to have.’’ 

Your mind quickly brings you back to the harsh reality, which is that Jungkook will never be yours. He probably only kissed you because he was looking for something that was capable of exciting him again after realizing how bored of his marriage he is. He doesn’t love you like that, he’ll never love you like that.

Minji can’t disagree with what you just said, but she also feels like right now is not the time to make you feel even worse when it’s obvious you’re already there. 

‘‘I blocked his number, anyway.’’ You mumble out, wiping away your tears. 

Your friend’s eyes widened at the revelation, ‘‘What?’’. 

‘‘I freaked out after I talked to Taehyung because I felt so guilty and you know how I don’t know how to deal with shit ever, so I just─’’ You stop yourself from rambling and sigh as you feel Minji’s hand squeezing your knee as a sign of comfort, ‘‘I can’t see him again without thinking about it. I can’t take care of Sunhi knowing he’s going home to sleep with Jiwoo. I just can’t keep pretending anymore.’’ 

Minji can’t do much after that, you’ve become a sobbing mess and the tears seem unstoppable. She’s never seen you like this and it dawns on her that you’ve held all of this in for way too long. 

It’s ironic because she’s always told you that you need space from Jungkook, thinking it’d be good for you to finally realize that you’re not part of his list of priorities anymore and hadn’t been for a long time. 

But she hadn’t taken into account what the after effects of not having him in your life anymore would look like.

[12:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hi y/n 

{Error: Undelivered!} 

[12:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hey???

{Error: Undelivered!}

[12:07 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i wanted to see if you’d like to meet up for lunch one of these days? i feel like we need to talk 

{Error: Undelivered!}

[5:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: does this work now??

{Error: Undelivered!}

Jungkook groans in annoyance as he finds another one of his texts left undelivered. It feels like life is either against him or doing this for his own good. 

Nonetheless, he wants to talk to you because it’s been a few days since he last saw and heard from you. He figures you’re mad, the last words you spoke to him didn’t sound friendly at all and he wonders if maybe leaving without saying goodbye that day was the right thing to do. 

The small snores coming from beside him make him realize Sunhi is finally asleep and he can’t help but let out a sigh of disappointment as he watches her curl into a fetal like position, clutching her Dumbo plush toy and slightly drooling into his favorite pillow, making him pout because he knows he won’t be able to pry it away from her when he decides to fall asleep too. 

Sunhi being fast asleep is supposed to bring peace to Jungkook’s tiring day, though the silence is extremely uncomfortable and these days he’s come to realize how much he rather have his daughter running around and yelling in excitement than this.

Complete and utter silence.

[7:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: (1.jpg attached) sunhi misses auntie y/n!! she’s been asking me about you a lot 

{Error: Undelivered!}

[7:15 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss auntie y/n more tho…

{Error: Undelivered!}

[7:17 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i hope ur alright :)

{Error: Undelivered!}

‘‘Pumpkin, you can stop smiling already.’’ Jungkook chuckles as he looks up from his phone, noticing his daughter still holding the big smile he had given him when he requested to take a picture of her to send to you. ‘‘I already sent the picture to Auntie Y/N.’’ He informs and she sighs with relief, massaging her cheeks from straining them too hard.

Though his eyebrows furrow, noticing his messages have once again been left undelivered. He makes a mental note to call the phone company soon, because it’s been over a week since he last sent the first messages and those remained in the same state as well. 

‘‘Daddy, unpause!’’ Sunhi demands, making him realize that he’s in the middle of showing her his favorite Pixar movie, Cars. 

Twenty minutes had passed and for a majority of them Sunhi had only watched attentively and Jungkook looked over at her every other second just to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep. Warmness spread throughout him as he noticed his daughter looking at the screen with those big doe eyes she had inherited from him. 

Once the scene where Sally shows Lightning McQueen around Radiator Springs, Jungkook feels a tug at his sweatshirt and looks down to notice Sunhi’s little hand grabbing at the fabric, her eyes are still glued to the screen.

“Auntie Y/N likes this too?” She asks and Jungkook chuckles because his daughter can’t stop thinking about his friend even when doing anything completely unrelated to you.

Maybe that’s another thing she inherited as well.

[7:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: so i called my phone company and asked them abt why my messages aren’t being delivered and they said that you must’ve blocked me

{Error: Undelivered!}

[7:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: yeah i guess you did

{Error: Undelivered!}

Jungkook’s mind has gone blank ever since he got off the phone with the cellphone company. 

The idea that you might’ve blocked his number had not once crossed his mind during the weeks of undelivered texts and phone calls sent straight to voicemail. It was obvious, but he didn’t think you’d be capable of doing it. 

He wanted it to be a network issue or something else that he could put blame on instead of facing the realization that you had shut him out from your life. And that thought hurt, no─stung him. 

The worst part is that he knows he deserves it. It was foolish of him to think that you had enjoyed the kiss too. Dumb enough to believe that you might’ve reciprocated the way he felt. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on. 

He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.

[1:30 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you so fucking much i’m sorry if i knew that kissing you would’ve fucked everything up htne i woudl’ve never done it y/n i’m sorry 

{Error: Undelivered!}

[1:31 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i really wanted to kiss you but it was selfish of me to do it i didnt think about what you must’ve felt im sos sorry 

{Error: Undelivered!}

[1:32 AM] Jeon Jungkook: sunhi’s been asking me about yoj and i dont even know what to say anymore

{Error: Undelivered!}

[2:27 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i don’t even care if you dont wanna speak to me anymore i fucked this up for sunhi she loves you so much and you’re her favorite person ever and i ruined it for her just bc i wanted to see if you felt the same way as i do

{Error: Undelivered!}

[3:50 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you y/n i really do 

{Error: Undelivered!} 

“Daddy, lemme go!” Sunhi whines trying to escape from her father’s hands as he finishes applying the sunscreen on her arms, “Daddy!”.

He gives her a stern look and the toddler huffs, sticking her bottom lip out in an act of annoyance. The playground games are waiting for her and she feels like her dad is just coming between them and her.

“Alright,” he pats his big hands on her tiny arms, “you’re good to—“ Jungkook isn’t able to finish his sentence because his daughter’s already running towards one of the slides, “Sunhi, be careful!” He reminds her, but she’s too focused on the rides than on her dad’s warning.

Jungkook sighs and relaxes into the bench. 

“She’s precious,” She comments with a small smile as her attention focuses on the little girl having the time of her life going down the slide, “I’m surprised she’s yours.” 

Jungkook looks over at the woman beside him and scoffs, but he can’t help but agree. Sunhi is too good and too pure, the best thing he’s ever done in his life. 

“Yeah, well, it’s all her.” Jungkook admits, eyes focusing back on Sunhi, “She’s really great.” 

There’s an uncomfortable silence between them and Jungkook has to clear his throat to gain her attention. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet up at a café,” Jungkook apologizes and nods over at his daughter, “she’s been a little misbehaved lately, you said you wanted to talk to me and I figured that if I took Sunhi to a place like that she’d just—“

She interrupts his rambling, “Hey, it’s okay. I have no problem, really.” She assures him and he nods slightly, “I haven’t been in a place like this in a long time.” 

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and glances over at the woman who’s looking at him with an expression he can’t quite pinpoint. It makes him so nervous that he quickly shifts his gaze to the ground.

“This is so weird.” He admits with an awkward chuckle and she raises her eyebrow, “I mean—you hate me, Minji, so I don’t know what you want to talk about.” 

“I don’t hate you!” Minji laughs and Jungkook finally looks at her and she falters, “Seriously! I only dislike you and that’s saying a lot.” 

He supposes that’s a good thing, considering how aggressive Minji used to be towards him back in college. Always letting him know how much she despised his guts, how he didn’t deserve to have you as his friend and even once threw a drink at his face during a party; though you swore to him she was drunk and that she didn’t mean it.

Jungkook hadn’t seen her much since, only a few times if it was your birthday and they managed to cross paths, because the girl made sure she was never in the same room as him. The times it happened, he felt like she was throwing daggers at him through her eyes. 

“It always bothered me how putty in your hands she was for you,” Minji begins, crossing her arms over her chest as she settles back into the bench, “and how oblivious you were about it.” 

Jungkook looks back at her and there’s a small smile on her face, most likely looking over at his daughter. 

“How when we got together for study sessions, she’d be tired because she was taking care of you the night before at one of those stupid frat parties you loved dragging her to.” Minji recalls and Jungkook feels like his mouth has gone dry from the memory.

She crosses one of her legs over the other, “Or that whole Jiwoo ordeal, how you had practically put Y/N aside once you managed to date the ‘campus hottie’.” She says with air quotes and Jungkook sighs, remembering the beginning of it all.

He knows that he can’t turn back time and change it all. Even if he could, he knows he wouldn’t. If there was no Jiwoo, there’d be no Sunhi. 

An excited yell startles him as he looks over at his daughter, swinging up and down. “Look, daddy! I'm flying!” She calls and he smiles at her. 

“Jesus, that’s fucking precious.” Minji mumbles, but he hears her nonetheless and nods in agreement. “Anyway, I’m not going to act like a saint here and pretend I was vouching for you, because I never did.” 

Jungkook knows. Back then he didn’t understand why Minji was so adamant about trash talking him to you, considering how he and her barely knew each other. Actually, whatever knowledge they had of the other was through of you. 

But Jungkook’s done a lot of self reflecting for the past month and a half and he’s realized why Minji disliked him so much. Or, dislikes. Either way, it’s valid.

“I just wanted her to snap out of it,” she confesses, “and realize that there is a life beyond you. That there’s more than being your best friend and your daughter’s babysitter. That she’s capable of moving on and putting you aside, because if you did that to her then why shouldn’t she?” 

Jungkook hadn’t thought about any of that at all. He had realized he had been a shitty friend, but the idea of just how much definitely hadn’t settled on him. He wishes you knew how much he’s cared about you, but that there were too many overlapping lines for him to ever express it.

“I thought that after setting her up with Taehyung she had finally realized it,” she continues “but you know how she is, she rarely lets up and I knew she wasn’t going to let you go that easily.” 

Jungkook draws in a long breath, rubbing his now clammy hands in his jeans as he looks back towards Minji. 

“I mean, she couldn’t let her go that easily.” She jerks her head towards Sunhi, still sitting on the swings, though she’s slowed down now. “She loves that little girl so damn much.” 

Jungkook’s sure of this. He recognizes the immense love you have for Sunhi, how sincere and unconditional it is. It’s the way a mother loves her child, though he never expected it to come from you instead. He’s not surprised though, because it’s the same love you gave to him. But it’s louder, there are no boundaries that you needed to respect to show Sunhi just how much you loved her, unlike with him. 

It dawns on him that cutting him off must’ve been hard. You probably wanted to do it for way longer and only stayed because of Sunhi and Jungkook doesn’t want to think about the dilemma you must’ve went through to finally do it this time around. 

He runs his hands through his hair, letting out a shaky breath, remembering that Sunhi doesn’t have you anymore. That’s the reason as to why she’s been so misbehaved lately, crying way too often, throwing tantrums over the smallest of things. Jungkook could blame it on the fact that she’s soon turning four and maybe it’s something that comes with age, it might just be a coincidence that she’s acting this way during a time you’re no longer present in her life.

This is the thing Sunhi might not be able to forgive him for.

“Minji,” he finally speaks up and the woman beside him focuses his gaze back on him, “I miss her so much.” He mumbles, not trusting himself to speak up because he might choke back a sob.

“Only now?” 

“No!” He says this a little too harshly and Minji jumps slightly at the tone in his voice, “I’ve always missed her and I’m fucking idiot for realizing too late.” 

She hums and Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, “She’s my first thought when I wake up and when I finally manage to go to sleep. Sunhi constantly reminds me about her, asking me where she is and when can she see her and I have to force myself to lie.” 

Jungkook doesn’t realize Minji’s hand is now awkwardly placed on his back, hesitantly tapping as if to give him some comfort. It’s weird to see him like this, she had convinced herself that the guy didn’t have any feelings when it came to you.

“She blocked my number, I can’t call her and all my texts have been left undelivered. I’ve driven by her apartment building too many times with the plan to go up and talk to her, but I always back out because I’m an idiot and I know she’ll hate me if I do that and I—“

“Jungkook.” 

“I just want to know if she still cares, I don’t mind if she doesn’t feel the same way. But I want to know that Y/N still cares about Sunhi and me. Do you know? Does she? Could you please—“

Jungkook’s ramble is interrupted by the crying sounds of Sunhi, who’s now on the ground as she sobs and he quickly stands up to go straight towards her. He blinks away the tears that had formed in his eyes because there’s only room for one crying baby here.

“Pumpkin, what happened?” He asks in a soft voice, crouching down at her level and she’s pouting as she points at her bloody knee. “Did you fall down?” She nods and he sighs, picking her up as he takes her back to the bench where Minji waits with expectancy to check on the little girl.

Jungkook places Sunhi beside her and looks through his daughter’s bag for the emergency kit he carried around. He cleans the blood delicately with a gauze and alcohol, making the little girl wince and yelp out an ‘ouch!’ as she holds tightly to Minji’s thigh. 

“It’s okay, Pumpkin.” He reassures her with a smile, making his daughter nod because she trusts her dad, “It was an accident and accidents are part of growing up, right?” She nods again and Minji figures this isn’t a first for her.

Once the blood has been cleaned, Jungkook places a cute rainbow patterned bandaid on the wound in her knee. 

“There we go,” he announces and Sunhi lets out the breath she’d been holding, ‘‘all done! Are you good now?” 

“Yes,” Sunhi weakly replies, “daddy, I wanna go home.” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but the look on her face tells him that she’s probably still shaken by the accident and most likely wants to take a nap to forget about it.

He looks over at Minji with an apologetic look and she gives him half a smile, “Go, it’s alright.” 

Jungkook nods and takes Sunhi in his arms, which she gladly accepts and settles her head in the crook of his neck. Minji’s ready to leave, figuring there was no point in staying any longer.

“Minji, wait!” He stops her before she goes, making her turn around and offer him a curious look, “Sunhi’s birthday is in a few weeks and,” Jungkook reaches for something inside his daughter’s bag, “she really wants Y/N to be there.” He whispers, taking out a party invitation to hand over to Minji.

She smirks, looking at the personalized invitation for his daughter’s fourth birthday, “Just Sunhi?” She asks and he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Me too.” Jungkook adds and a small smile appears on his face as he says it. “Uh—thank you for talking to me, I know it must’ve been hard.” 

Minji swats her hand in the air, “It’s alright, just wanted to make sure how you and the kid were doing. It’s all she talks about anyway.” 

A gasp escapes his lips and he holds on to his daughter tighter as she nuzzles her face farther in. 

“I’ll give her the card, but—I can’t guarantee if she’ll go.” She warns and he nods, understanding.

Though he does not like the possible outcome, he settles down with the idea that you’ll notice how even though you both haven’t spoken towards each other in almost two months, he’s still thinking about you either way. Every day. 

[fandom-blackhole]

Sinful Sunday THOTS

So I'm starting this so this more so for myself. I was thinking, I take everyone else THOTS, but why not share my own? So on Sundays from now on I am going to post a list of THOTS I had during the week that I wrote down!

This weeks in shorter because I just got the idea last night and wrote them all up delirious with no sleep, so sorry for mistakes, but other words enjoy!

Thank you @fuckyeahbeskar for talking about two of these THOTS with me, and for telling me I should post one of them because that is what gave me this idea 😘

Sinful Sunday Masterlist

Pairings: Paz Vizsla x Reader, Priest!Din Djarin x Reader, Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

Paz Vizsla x Reader

So I love sweet Paz and all but what about enemies to lovers Paz?

I've thought about this one for awhile...

So you are part of the mandalorian tribe that Paz and the remains of his tribe had joined. Immediately you and Paz started fighting, you weren't sure why, but just something about him rubbed at you. It wasn't uncommon for others to walk into a room and find you and Paz butting heads, literally. The two of you had been separated multiple times by the leader of your tribe and the armorer, just to keep you both from killing eachother. Eventually you decide to just start avoiding him and ignoring his presence, tired of fighting over stupid things. Unfortunately that lasted only a month before your leader called you into the armory for an assignment. He told you that you were being sent on a supply mission along with one of the warriors from the other tribe. You nodded and didn't think much of it until you were preparing the ship and Paz came strutting towards you. All you could do was clench your teeth and cross your arms asking him why he was here. He had only stared at you for a minute before saying, "I've been assigned to the supply mission." After that he finished loading the ship before heading to set up the controls. You just growled and sent a comm to your leader saying that if you survived this mission you were going to kill him.

The supply mission was to take two weeks, one to the planet where the supplies were stored and another to get back. The first two days the two of you stayed away from eachother. But on the third day the two of you started butting heads and arguing. On the 5th day Paz had managed to corner of of the ship and pin you to the wall, and in that moment you hated how flushed and hot you felt. You had to end up taking a cold shower to calm down.

When the two of you finally reached the planet and loaded the ship with supplies you were glad to be able to take some time away from Paz as you wandered the market while he was off bartering with the merchants. You made sure to take your time before walking back to the ship to find Paz FUMING. You just shrugged past him and onto the ship, totally ignoring his angry words about you being late and being an idiot and so on.

The first day back in hyperspace was spent avoiding eachother again, but that night you were over come with the need to touch yourself. You hated it but as you played with your clit all you could imagine was Paz’s body pressed against yours, pinning you in place, how he would feel slamming into you. Much to your frustration you came with a long groan of his name.

The next day found you and Paz fighting again unsurprisingly, but this time was different. This time, Paz once again pinned you to the wall before leaning down and whispering in your ear, "You know the walls of this ship are thin, and I could hear every moan last night. Was I mistaken when I heard my name as well?"

Could you only reply breathlessly as he moved his thigh between you legs, "You fucking wish Vizsla." And he leaned down close, bumping his helmet with your own as he pushed his thigh against you and whispering something quietly under his breath before saying, "Mmm maybe you need to be punished for lying." He immediately spanked you, and you couldn't help but moan and you could feel his smirk as he did it again. Before grabbing your ass roughing and saying that you were going to be sore tomorrow, he was going to make sure of it. Paz took no time at all before pulling you pants down and turning you around to face the wall. You angrily started to protest, but was immediately shut up with another smack to the ass, with which you could only moan brokenly. You heard Paz chuckle,, before spanking you again, before rubbing a hand over your flesh. Then he harshly pulled you back into his chest and kicked you feet apart before immediately pressing his glove covered finger tips to you clit. Paz then told you, "Im gonna make this pussy weep for me until you are begging for my cock." And he kept his promise. Paz brought you orgasm after orgasm and by your fifth you were already starting to beg him. He only growled in your ear and slapped you pussy saying, "You can do better than that. Beg. Me." You tried again, but it also result in another harsh slap. This time you let out a broken sob and whined out, "Please, fucking please pleasepleaseplease, Paz give your cock... I need to feel it inside of me so badly. Fuck me pleaaaassseeee."

And before you could even take a breath you felt him slam his enormous cock into you. You could only whimper at the stretch and curse Paz. He only chuckled and wait a few seconds, detailing everything he wanted to do to you before he started pounding into you so hard you could barely stand or think straight. Paz didn't let up and railed you through several more orgasms before he came deep inside you himself.  Afterwards he carried you to bed and mockingly said, "Goodnight cyare."

The rest of the trip was spent with petty fights ending in fucking eachother senseless and by the time you arrived at the covert you found yourself somewhat disappointed that this was all going to end. But you were shocked when Paz turned to you after he had landed the ship and asked, "Marry me?"

You only smirked and said back, "Give me a good reason too, di'kut."

You heard him growl, before he pulled you onto his lap and said, "So I can look you in the eye as I fuck the life out of you, so I can finally shut that mouth of yours up with my cock down your thoat."

Let's just say that the other mandalorians avoided the ship for a few hours as they heard moans coming quite loudly from inside. The Armorer and the tribe leader both nodded to eachother and let out a sigh glad that they wouldn't have to deal with your shit anymore.

(In this THOT i also imagine Paz being absolutely infatuated with you from day one, and those feelings that rub at you is just intense attraction that you don't want to acknowledge. The Armorer and tribe leader set the trip up to try and push the two of you together so they didn't have to deal with the sexual tension so thick it could kill anyone that walked past. In the end the are fucking relieved it worked, though a little too well lmao)

Din Djarin x Reader

So Priest!Din thot....

After Sunday service one week you ask him innocently if he would like help cleaning up the chapel. Din smiles and says yes thank you. You wave your family to go ahead and wait for Din to finish speaking and saying goodbye to the parishioners. When the last woman leaves, little old Mrs. Taylor, he waves you inside. The two of you work in relative silence as you put away all the hymnals and bibles, the only noise being your movements and your own humming of one of the hymns from that day's service. By the time the two of you made it to the front of the chapel, you turn to eachother and pause looking at eachother before you both lean forward for a sweet kiss. When you pull back you smile at Din, before biting your lip and saying, "That was a beautiful service today, Father Djarin."

You could see Din's eyes dark the second you uttered his title. The look he gave you sent a warm shiver down to your lower belly. Then he reached forward and pulled you close whispering, "Only the best for my flock, my child." You couldn't suppress the small gasp that passed your lips as his hand moved to your hip backing you up until you felt your back hit the altar. You were shocked even more when Din suddenly lifted you and put you on the altar and immediately rolled you dress up your thighs whispering about how much he has been aching to feel you again. Din stops suddenly when he finds you missing your panties and he moans before grunting out, "A sinful temptress who just continues to seduce me with her wicked ways..." Then he's crashing his mouth on yours as he works to open his belt and pull out his aching cock. You can only meal against him he slowly slips into you. He stays fully seated inside of you for a minute, breathing harshly into you neck before pulling back to meet your eyes.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweet girl. You.....you have consumed my every waking moment, and I cannot stop these sinful thoughts of you." Then he dives back down into the kiss as he starts pounding into you, muffins your moans and whines with his mouth. The two of you fuck passionately and full of forbidden love as you desecrate the altar of the most holy. Din praises and worships you and your body as if you were the diety he pledged his life too. When the two of you were thrown into the ultimate pleasure you met eachother's gaze and spoke the words you both wish you could say aloud.

Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

My Ezra THOT of the week....

Just a preface, Ezra has a prosthetic arm in this THOT...

You were a rather skilled prospector. You had almost a sixth sense for good dig spots and that made you raise through the ranks rather quickly. Even though you were valuable, you still were never able to hit a dig that allowed you to be payed enough to finally settle down. You were hoping this dig would be different. You'd been hired by a bigger company, and was going down to the planet with a crew of roughly 15. The way your employers had explained it, you all would be split into groups of three and whatever your group mined would be split into four, parts for the three of you, and one for the company. It was the best deal you had gotten, ever. The day you were to go to the moon you climbed aboard the shuttle and took a seat next to a man with a charming smile and a unique blonde patch. While waiting to leave the two of you became acquainted and learned his name was Ezra.

As it turned out, Ezra and you had been paired up in a group, along with a woman named Shelby. You also learned that Ezra was very much a talker and loved to please. Shelby got annoyed with his constant chatter, but you found yourself smiling softly and occasionally responding to his poetic words with sentences as graceful as you could make them. Loving the smile Ezra would shoot your way when you did. You also came to realize that Ezra would give nicknames to those that he latched onto and you learned quickly that he had dubbed you to be sunflower. At night the two of you would speak, sharing stories until Shelby would forcefully shut the lantern light out on you both telling you to shut the fuck up.

As grumpy as Shelby was, you were still hurt when one afternoon she disappeared for hours. Worried Ezra had gone to look for her only to come back with a grim look and a shake of the head. The two of you didn't speak the rest of the night, paranoid and not wanting to leave the other alone for a second. A few days later found you waking from sleep in a could sweat and with Ezra holding your face softly whispering reassuring words. That was the first night the two of you shared a cot, and after that it became a nightly occurrence. Eventually two of your three and a half month stay had passed and you found yourself looking up as Ezra walked into the shared tent after his shower in the communal space, he was shirtless and you watched as water dripped from his hair down his chest. He had immediately met your gaze and you blushed and turned back to your book quickly. You were shocked when you ft a finger trace you cheek, not having heard him approach. Then he spoke up and said, "Sunflower, I want you to promise me that if I cross a line, you will tell me. I in no way want to make you uncomfortable." You had only looked up at him confused. He responded by gently taking your book and setting it aside, before turning back to you and leaning in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, before he softly brushed his lips against your own. Whwn you didn't pull away, Ezra dived in and pushed the kiss further. Soon you found yourself sitting in Ezra’s lap, stipped of everything but your under clothes, and makeout passionately with the man who has haunted your thoughts since you heard his voice. You instinctively started grinding against Ezra as you started to feel a pressure in you belly, that resulted in him groaning and grabbing your waist before pulling back slightly and looking you in the eye. He traced your skin for a second, causing goosebumps to erupt everywhere before he whispered, "May I ask a favor, my bright sunflower," you only nodded in response before he rushed out quickly and not as poetic as you are sure he would have liked, "Sunflower, please, for the love of Kevva, climb over me and place those sweet lips above mine." You sat there confused for a second before it clicked and you shyly asked him, "You want me to sit on your face?" You say his eyes dilated as he nodded shakily and whispered out a singular, please. You could only nod and he gave you the prettiest smile as he flopped back onto the bed before just completely rippling you panties off of you. You could only whine as he pulled your hips up. Ezra made sure you were making eye contact with him when he picked a broad striped along you slit with a groan and several muttered words. Ezra repeated that a few times before he stopped at your clit one pass and sucked it into his mouth. You could only choke out his name roughly before he just started eating you out like there was no tomorrow. At one point he as you were getting closer he pulled back long enough to tell you not to hold back anything, to tell you to grind against his face. You only moaned in response before he pulled you down onto his mouth and dipped into you again. It didn't take you long to start gasping out his name, and when Ezra reached up and grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples, you felt your eyes roll back as you came all over his face as he continued his ministrations dragging out your orgasm as long as you let him. When you finally came back to your body you found yourself laying on the bed and Ezra naked next to you already dozing, having cum from his own touches while he was tasting you.